


Reunited at Last

by PrincessMidnaofTwilight



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kamarx/Corriander fluff, Not Beta Read, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-05-30 02:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 33,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6405313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessMidnaofTwilight/pseuds/PrincessMidnaofTwilight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kamarx/Corriander fluff based upon the support conversations within the game. Each chapter details a separate support, starting from C until S.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sleepless Nights

**Author's Note:**

> After the inevitable takeover of the supports between Kamui and Marx/Corrin and Xander, I felt the need to write about the sweet complexities of their relationship because I am in shipping hell. This fluff is based upon all of their support conversations in Fire Emblem Fates: Revelations and may continue onward from there. For those of you in the same boat, please enjoy!

Her bare feet descended the steps of the treehouse with muted thuds, lowering herself gradually to avoid Jakob’s wrath. The Gods knew that if he found her out of bed she would be given a cup of her favorite tea for the hundredth time and tucked forcibly back into bed to rest. And she knew she needed proper rest to remain alert on the battlefield too, but on this night sleep would not come. No number of warm drinks or willing her eyes closed was working, so she decided to train: both to utilize her time wisely in preparation for the next battle and perhaps induce some degree of drowsiness with fatigue. Most of the army had already gone to bed, with the exception of the frequent night owls such as Saizo and Azama, to whom she waved as she passed on the way. Saizo grunted his acknowledgement and Azama simply smiled his cryptic smile and nodded.  
  
Deciding swordplay to be the focal point of tonight’s training session, she made a beeline for the area designated to the veritable art that was its mastery. Memories of watching her big brother swing a wooden blade skillfully, poised and powerful, imbued the sudden curve of her lips with nostalgia. His strength, the imperturbable foundation of their little family, had filled her with a sense of security previously unknown in her first years at the fortress. Perhaps she _had_ been isolated, but something about his inspiring dedication made her feel an unspoken camaraderie as she began to swing the little wand in her room in time with his sword. That maybe by doing so a single ounce of his formidable vigor could become hers, her feeble form one day as capable as his. At the time, she only knew him as the Crown Prince of Nohr who smiled amiably at her once when they were first introduced, as she remained prohibited from interacting with the royal siblings until she earned the privilege. That is, until King Garon was certain her loyalties were firmly tied to Nohr. It had never been news that she was not related to the rest of the family by blood, both due to Garon’s evident ostracization and the differences in her appearance. But like all young children, she yearned for company, no matter how distant their ties.

So one night, as she mimicked Xander’s practiced movements in the moonlight, she felt the fiercest desire to meet him. To learn why he swung his sword until he was ready to collapse in the dark of midnight. Or why his mouth was a thin line, his forehead creased with worry, and his umber eyes a reflection of her own when she looked in the mirror: lonely. Why with each passing year his youth seemed to vanish at an unprecedented rate. Until he was nothing at all like the quiet boy who greeted his guests with polite tranquility and an aura of mild decorum, shy and sweet.  
  
And then she remembered when she was able to play with all of her siblings for the very first time on her tenth birthday. She had been so excited to meet them all, to have their voices and laughter break the gloomy silence. When she asked who would attend and Gunter told her that the Crown Prince would be present, she had danced about the room, startling the poor attendant. She remembered planning to give Xander the tightest hug she could manage, to show him she understood despite her lack of words to verbalize the feeling. She didn’t want him to feel alone anymore, not after so many years of keeping her company. But she was also nervous, worried that he would think her strange for wanting to hug him when he probably didn’t remember her. She had been biting her lip in anticipation at the center of the playroom when little Elise toddled inside with a gap-toothed smile, tackling her immediately as she was led by an indulgent Camilla, who followed suit with a gentle embrace. She grinned and returned their eager hugs, words of affectionate welcome spewing from their lips as she was rendered mute by the disappearance of some of the butterflies in her stomach. She could quickly distinguish between Elise’s reverent adoration as she babbled and reached for attention and Camilla’s doting, stroking her hair as she murmured unconditional words of devotion. Leo had remained stymied in the doorway, young and bashful, staring at the floor and twisting his foot into the carpet with a scowl. Sensing his silent anxiety, Corrin thanked her sisters before disentangling herself and pulling him into a spontaneous hug, telling him how delighted she was to meet her little brother. He had squirmed, muttering something about the absurdity of physical manifestations of sentiment before he returned the gesture with a covert smile. Distracted as she was, she didn’t notice Xander approaching behind him in the hall until she lifted her gaze from Leo’s shoulder to see the tender smile that curved his lips, as if already sensing the cheer that filled the once bland stone walls.

Leo, presumably having had his fill of physical contact for one day, though more likely to have wanted to give his older brother a moment with her as well, let her go and went to join his sisters playing bemusedly with the toys near the far wall as she stared at him in wonder. She hadn’t seen him for about half a year, as he was always on outings and so busy with his princely tasks as heir. He frequently traveled between the castle and the fortress depending on where it was in the nation his presence was required the most. At least, that’s how a surprised Gunter had explained it to her when she asked about his frequent disappearances. In those days his expression was not yet leaden with desolation and reticence; kindness and warmth softened his features near his family. It made him seem much less scary than she thought he would look in the muted glow of the surrounding candlelight. Noticing her hesitation he opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to reassure her, until she suddenly launched herself at him. She threw her arms around his waist, squeezing him as tightly as her little arms could manage. Shock made him stumble for a moment, rocking backwards on his heels before he righted himself. The others looked on curiously as she buried her face in his midsection and his customarily stiff posture eased, touched by the gesture. He crouched down and hugged her back just as tightly, earning a squeak and a tinkling giggle before he relieved the pressure. He assumed she was just seeking a presence to alleviate the sense of isolation, and as the final sibling to enter the room the relief had been most potent in her reaction to his entrance. So he leaned close to whisper in her ear, erasing any doubts about her status.

“Welcome to the family, little princess.”

Then he hoisted her up and onto his shoulders with a grin his siblings hadn’t seen in a decade. Her hands tangled in the unruly, flaxen curls that flowed like spiralling waterfalls behind his crown, the only object able to maintain some level of order on his head.

“We can’t have the birthday princess without her prince.” He said, glancing behind with a wink. His reward was a brilliant, toothy smile as she directed him onwards towards the rest of their siblings with endearing eagerness.

That entire day she refused to let go of his hand. She remembered being fascinated by the roughness of his palms, calloused by years of handling weapons and training without pause. Or how his hand completely enveloped hers, expansive and warm as if he were her very own hearth. Or the way he humored her, visibly delighted and amused by her adamance to keep him involved as she tugged him along. It was among her favorite memories of a time long past, largely because from that day forward, regardless of his considerable shortage of time, he would always come to her room after Gunter had seen to her bedtime to tell her stories until she pretended to fall asleep. Then when he would rise to leave, he would squeeze her hand and make his way to the training grounds. Biding her time to avoid being caught, she would tiptoe out of bed minutes later to press her face against the window and continue her ritual, watching him transform in a matter of minutes from the man he wanted to be to the man he had to be: the protector of his nation. Despite her powerlessness in the decade to come, she promised herself in those moments a single thing: if she ever did win the freedom to do as she pleased, she would do everything in her power to help relieve the burden he was forced to carry.

The sound of wood connecting with clothed sand shook Corrin out of her reminiscing, prompting a raised brow in the direction of the grounds. Who would be training this late at night? She was only present because of her inability to sleep. She paused, listening to the timing, the impact, and the grunts that accompanied each strike before her eyes widened in immediate recognition. Xander?

She crossed the hallway hesitantly before her suspicions were confirmed, a tall figure in his customary armor striking a dummy in the middle of the room. He was so absorbed in his task that she was unwilling to disturb him, and contented herself with watching from afar. It wasn’t long before his powerful swings and rhythmic thuds lulled her to sleep like they did when she was young, a veritable lullaby. Her eyelids drooped as the intoxicating feeling of security infused her limbs for the first time in a solid year since she fled the battlefield shared by Nohr and Hoshido on that fateful day. The day his expression had crumpled at her refusal before it hardened with undelayed acceptance at her treachery, recategorizing her as the enemy as he lanced her with a belligerent glare. Duty superceded all emotion. If he was obligated to strike her down for the good of his nation, he would not hesitate. Even if it felt as though he were tearing his own heart out.

A yawn surfaced and took over before she could stifle it, echoing in the sudden silence and making him freeze. He turned, his features pinched and stoic before they eased into an indulgent smile at the sight of her leaning against the wall, drowsy and rubbing at her eyes absently. Fond memories surfaced at the sight, his voice easing to a low, placid murmur.

“Well good evening to you too, little princess.”

She blinked at the sound of his voice, dropping her hands and staring wide-eyed at his calm countenance. “Good evening. Sorry for interrupting you, I just didn’t think you would be up so late. You should get some rest, it’s been a long day.”

“I appreciate your concern Corrin, but I must continue to improve if I am to protect our nation well. You stated that this invisible enemy is inconceivable in its strength and abilities of manipulation. I must prepare accordingly.” Fierce determination hardened his chestnut eyes, his mouth a stern line as he began to strike the dummy again.

She laughed, struck by the fact that his expression mirrored the one he wore as a young man, the same face that promised to protect them all until his dying breath. “Even after all these years, you’re still the same Xander.” She hummed.

He paused mid-swing, turning around to gaze at her carefully. For once his brows were furrowed with confusion instead of intense focus or worry. “Oh? How so?”

She grinned, retrieving the memories with ease. “Remember when I was little, and I’d get so lonely in the Northern Fortress? You’d always come stay with me until I got sleepy and then go train late into the night.”

His eyes widened as he looked at her in bewilderment. “You knew about that? But how?”

Corrin’s expression turned sheepish, and she rubbed her forearm absently as she explained, “I could see you from my window. After you left, I always watched you train for a bit. It’s a little embarrassing, but I’d even try to imitate how you swung your sword. I thought if I matched your movements, maybe one day I could be as strong as you.”

It was his turn to laugh, a disbelieving chuckle escaping his lips as he imagined her tiny form mimicking his. An unexpected warmth blossomed in his chest at the notion, touched by how easily she placed her faith in him. How, despite his wide array of flaws, she still admired him.

“I had no idea.” He admitted, a smile wider than any that had graced his lips in the time she was gone surfacing.

But as she remembered her time there, melancholy quickly infected her tone, her crimson eyes forlorn as she stared at the ground and bit her lip, “I was always afraid that if I told you about it, you might train elsewhere.” He was about to protest until she shook her head as if to disperse the sudden negative aspect of her memories, settling for hopeful instead. “You know…what with recent events, we haven’t had a chance to train together in a while. Um, if you’re not too busy, maybe we could practice sword swinging like old times…”

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.” He answered fondly, thrilled that she still wanted to learn from him and spend time with him. The way her eyes shone like rubies and her face lit up made him relieved beyond words to have her by his side again, no longer divided as opponents. He doubted he ever felt more welcome in another’s presence.

Yet her earlier expression made him want to make a single thing explicitly clear. He walked over to where she stood and placed a hand under her chin, coaxing it up so that she could see the honesty and seriousness in his gaze. “But it can’t be like old times. This time, you and I shall train side by side. No more lonely Northern Fortress for you.” The words were a promise as he finished by lightly tapping the tip of her nose, and judging by her wonderstruck elation she was fully aware of that fact. If he could have anything in this twisted world of theirs, it would be that she never felt so alone ever again.

“Ha ha, great! I’ll grab my blade!” She said, her pale cheeks dusted by a light flush as she disappeared down the hall.

He shook his head as he watched her dash off before he could get in another word, amazed by her near infinite energy. But then, she was such a social creature it was unsurprising to see her so upbeat and radiant after starting her own army. She had finally been able to grow, make friends, and see the world on her own as she had always longed to. She was no longer the sheltered young woman she was forced to become. Now she stood taller, amiability and confidence radiating from every pore as she chatted with everyone and contributed to every facet of the war effort. Seeing her this way earlier had made the cold, dreadful fingers of fear seize his heart at the thought of her no longer needing or wanting the proximity of her Nohrian siblings, that she would prefer to foster her newly established, voluntary relationships instead. It was a large part of the reason he had gone to the tent to train, trying to clear his tumultuous thoughts regarding all he had seen that afternoon. The way Corrin had pulled Sakura into an eager hug and laughed merrily at her subsequent adorable squeak, her respectful salutes to Saizo and Kaze as they weaved in and out of the fort in obscurity, her careful consideration of Takumi’s feelings and her heartfelt assurances that she would never leave them again, her long and meaningful conversations about how the army should proceed with Scarlet and Ryoma, to her fawning over Subaki and Hana for acting like the endearing old married couple they had always been. She knew them. She _loved_ them. So he had spent the entire night trying to erase the image of a Corrin no longer comfortable to be in his company after all he had done and said, judging by how she had avoided his efforts to speak with her all day. It was clear now that he was foolish to believe so. Her amiability and penchant for humanity knew no bounds, exhibiting endless empathy and unconditional positive regard was in her nature.

When she reemerged, insatiable in her excitement to begin, he could only hope that she would continue to believe in him. Just as he would start believing in her.

 

 


	2. Empowered Adults

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Support Conversation B time, here comes more fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to take a short moment to thank every person who has read this story and enjoyed it so far, it means the world to me.

The following night Corrin snuck out again, the cause of her sleeplessness was much more obvious. Last night she had returned as dawn crept along the horizon, which meant there was a good chance Xander would be up too as a result of their time-keeping mishap. 

Regardless, the sleepless night had been well worth it.

She was enthralled by the thought of sparring with him again tonight. He helped her sharpen her technique tenfold in a single night, reminding her how capable a warrior he was. But more importantly their swordplay had revealed what dwelled in his heart, unadulterated emotion inscribed in every swing of his sword. Relief and reassurance had dwelled in each thud of their colliding weapons, more informal and open than he had ever allowed things to be between them. The entire battle was spent grinning and making jokes at each other’s expense, as equals rather than protector and protected. She was still laughing about the uncharacteristic smirk that had crossed his face during their third match. It had mirrored the one that curved her own lips when she gained the upperhand mere moments ago, only to lose it again to his capable hands. Or the laughter that had flowed from his lips when she dodged too sharply to the left. She fell to the floor in a heap of giggles, shocked when he joined in with his tenor equivalent. The sound was as smooth as the water that flowed in rivulets down the castle fountains, light and charming as it intertwined with her own. 

Absorbed as they were in relearning each other’s company the only indications of the passing time were the adamant rays of sunlight like greedy fingers, dancing across their blades until a soft glow filled every corner of the room. Turning sharply at the sudden invasion, they both stared at the horizon with a disbelief that quickly became grudging acceptance before they looked to each other again. With an awed shake of his head Xander sheathed his sword, as if perturbed by his ability to get so carried away. He then suggested, in a quiet voice that was as responsible and firm as ever, that they return to their respective rooms to get some degree of sleep and prepare for the next day. 

She had been concerned about his acute reticence after their battle against Iago at the Bottomless Canyon, something about his demeanor mechanic and unlike him. She knew he behaved differently in public, and with the royals of Hoshido present no less, compared to when he was alone with his family. Yet she still sensed an unease that was not associated with his normal anxieties. The space and privacy she tried to allot him as a result seemed to be ineffective in improving his mental state, contrary to what she hoped it seemed to make his severe expression set in deeper. She was glad she had been able to relieve him of it in the end, even if it was only for a few hours during their time together. She hoped he would continue to let her share his company, learning more about him and figuring out ways to support him just as he supported her. She wanted him to be able to feel the same comfort and peace that she did when he vowed to remain by her side, when he promised that she would never have to live in isolation again.

This time when she entered the training grounds, it only took about two steps inside to hear the smashing sound of a wooden sword colliding with its target with excessive force. She winced as the sharp clang grated her sensitive ears, rubbing along the pointed cartilage absently to relieve the internal pain as she sighed. She knew  _ that _ sound all too well.

When she was younger and would watch Xander train at night, admittedly while she should have been asleep, his movements usually reflected his general disposition: controlled, calculated, and sure. Along with the feeling of his unwavering protection, it was the rhythmic nature of his smooth strikes that soothed her to sleep. But there were rare nights when the flat line of his mouth became steely, curling into a near snarl as he lashed out at the target. He would be everything other than calm and composed as a fury the likes of which she had never seen would possess his limbs. Frustration, injustice, distress, powerlessness...all of it would culminate until he couldn’t internalize it any longer, the result explosive. 

At first the intensity of his violence frightened her, but then she would watch him closely and find traces of the boy she knew in his crestfallen eyes and steady hands. It wasn’t long before she understood that this normally followed an argument with his father, or that this was the only way he could display vulnerability without being punished or ridiculed. Over the years, his siblings tried to share the burden with him after reaching the same conclusion, but he always refused to inflict the darker parts of his duty as Crown Prince on them. 

In those days she always wanted to climb out the window and down the nearby tree until she reached the spot where he stood to ask him what was wrong, to talk with him late into the hours of the night until he didn’t feel so miserable or conflicted. She wanted to hug his despair away the same way he took the time to comfort her before she fell asleep. When he would squeeze her hand and help her plan her future freedom, promising to show her the world as soon as he possibly could. But she had known then that any action out of turn, on her part or his, would have caused him further trouble with their father. And there was no guarantee that he even wanted her consolation. Maybe he didn’t  _ want _ somebody to confide in. Perhaps he cherished what little time he had alone to cope with his feelings. Therefore she would simply sit and watch, tears streaking down the window pane as she wondered if it was  _ his _ freedom rather than her own that needed to come first, before he fell apart at the seams.

Shaking her head to disperse her gloomy recollections, she braced herself with the knowledge that they were  _ not _ children anymore, and that they had all the power in the world to help each other. Taking a deep breath, she headed towards the training room where she could hear his rapid breathing, the scent of clean sweat and metal permeating the air as he attacked the dummy in front of him.

“At it again, Xander? Don't you ever sleep?” She kept her tone light. She didn’t want to make him feel like he had to spill his guts if he wasn’t so inclined.

He ceased his thrusts, sighed, and turned to her, a small smile overtaking his fatigued scowl before she could register its existence on his lips. “If I train while my enemies are sleeping, I shall always have the advantage.” He teased as if he were reciting an ancient proverb, crossing his arms as he took the moment to rest, each shallow exhalation lengthening and easing.

She was heartened by his silent acceptance of her proximity. “Mind if I join in? I had a great time training with you the other day.”

He inclined his head graciously, inviting her to retrieve a wooden sword herself. “I am always happy to have such a capable fighter aid me in my practice.”

Ignoring the flush that arose at the earnest compliment, she took one of the wooden swords from the rack and began. Silence fell between them as they struck and parried, dodged and twisted, but there was something brittle about the nature of this match. The sense of assuagement had disappeared, leaving in its wake an overt emotional distance that was as uncomfortable as it was disappointing. She didn’t want him to feel like he had to conceal his dismay in her presence, just as he did around everyone else. From his carefully schooled expression to the muscles in his arm tensing as he deliberately held back, it was clear that he was withdrawing again, even from her. She began to scold herself at the sight. She knew she shouldn’t have interrupted his attempts at catharsis, forcing him to humor her request despite clear indications that he needed and wanted to be alone. There was a reason why nobody else had dared to approach the training grounds in the last few hours. She was still surprised the practice dummies weren’t screaming bloody murder, or Leo was at the racket.

“Is something the matter? I understand if you'd prefer to be alone right now...” She blurted, her eyes looking to his to reassure him that it was more than okay to want her gone.

He seemed startled, removed from another train of thought before shaking his head vehemently at the suggestion that she had intruded upon his moment. But then, he could simply be accommodating her wishes. He had a tendency to place the needs of others above his own. “Oh no, not at all. I was just thinking about what you said the other day.”

She didn’t like where this was headed. Was he annoyed at her childhood habit of watching him train? “What about it?” She asked, worrying her lip.

His eyes lingered on her involuntary reaction before he continued, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. “Exactly how much sleep did I cause you to lose because of my training? Thinking back, I recall how hard it was to get you up in the morning. Am I to blame?” 

She released the breath she didn’t know she had been holding before she chuckled.  _ Of course _ he was worried about her wellbeing, she should have known better than to think he would be irritated with her for something so insignificant.

“Don't be silly. It's true I stayed up to watch, but it actually helped me sleep. Some people need to hear the ocean waves to lull themselves to sleep... I need to hear your powerful blade slicing through the night air. It's soothing. I know it sounds ridiculous, but watching you train always made me feel safe.” She assured, letting the memories overtake her for a short moment as she remembered the peace he had given her in that empty place.

The sight of her serene reminiscing made him smile more naturally this time, a hint of his childhood shyness creeping into the corners of his mouth. “Truly? Well, I suppose if that's the case I shall forgive us both.” He resumed their practice but the lines between his brows, the ones that she always wanted to smooth over with the careful stroke of her thumb, lingered. His body still thrummed from afar with unexpended, agitated energy trapped just beneath the skin. It wasn’t the question he had wanted to ask.

She allowed him to collect his thoughts before she tried again, determined to help him feel better.  _ Empowered adults, _ she reminded herself,  _ you can help him this time. _

“Um, Xander? Is something else on your mind? You look troubled.” 

This time he stopped all together and abandoned his crouched position, standing with his sword hanging limp at his side. “Am I such an open book to you?” He grimaced, ashamed of himself for wavering in his composure. As a result, he had caused sweet Corrin unnecessary concern on his behalf.

Her eyes glowed like a scorching flame, illuminating the truth with all the ease of the sun as she explained in a soft voice that lacked accusation. “You're swinging your sword so fiercely today, with a wild look in your eyes. It's the same look you always had on nights when you and Father would argue.” Was that...regret that colored her tone? He couldn’t fathom why.

Nonetheless he sighed and abandoned his efforts to conceal his inner turmoil. He had been thinking about his asinine behavior this last year, ignoring what Corrin had to say and her efforts to protect both of her families with the truth. Meanwhile he had remained loyal to a deranged king content to slaughter them all, unable to accept that his father was beyond saving. He had called her a traitor, attacked her troops, and abandoned her when she had needed him most. Every time he recalled his offenses it left a sour taste in his mouth. He had betrayed Corrin for his duty to a corrupt nation in shambles. Corrin, who never doubted his judgement and had the utmost faith in his abilities. Corrin, who wanted everyone to live in contentment and peace. Corrin, who had made it her duty, despite all he had done, to soothe him, even now. 

He settled for the only things he could manage on such short notice, a half-truth and the reassurance necessary to keep her from worrying about him. He gazed at her with wisdom granted by weariness before his expression eased around a tender smile he never knew he only revealed to her. “You're too clever for your own good, Corrin. I have much on my mind, but I have no regrets about the decisions I've made. Like you, I am proceeding down the path I believe in, no matter the consequences.” 

Understanding dawned on her features before she gave a solemn nod. She looked as though she wanted to ask further but thought better of it, knowing how difficult it was for him to confide in someone. She didn’t want to destroy his progress. “Oh, so that's it. Sorry, maybe I shouldn't have asked. It's just so nice to hear what's on your mind instead of wondering from afar.” She explained, hoping that her sincere desire to know what was on his mind would help him feel less guilty about speaking up.

“Worry not, little princess. I have enjoyed our discourse as well. But the hour is getting late. Let's finish up so we can rest for tomorrow's endeavors.” He needed time to think about their conversation, and they both needed sleep.

“Okay. This time I'm going to beat you!” She challenged, lunging at him as he hurried to defend himself, a carefree chuckle following his parry at the sight of her exuberance. 

After he won their little match, much to her dismay, she pouted as she headed to the exit with Xander following close behind.

“That was a lucky shot, and you know it!” She accused as she waited for him to catch up, her eyes narrowing to slits.

He rolled his. “If targeting your blind spot is lucky, then I must be a remarkably lucky man.” And for the first time, as he watched her shake her head with a grin, he truly felt he was.

Her rebuttal was a wounded gasp, followed by someone sticking out her very pink tongue at him before she fell into step beside him.

When they neared the threshold to the exit she turned, her expression more grave than he had ever seen it. He raised a brow and was about to ask if she was going to trap him there for eternity with a Freeze spell before she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close as she pressed her face into his neck. He could distinctly feel her body warming his armor, her exhalations skating across his throat and her fingers tangling in the flaxen locks at the base of his neck. It made him remember the times she demanded he sit down in front of her mirror and let her brush the unruly strands. Following that instance, he often did the same for her own unruly white hair the color of starlight. He remembered how upset Jakob had been to lose that privilege, his language terse and sharp for an entire year whenever Xander had addressed him. 

“Thank you for trusting me, Xander. I’m always here for you, whenever you need me. Just say the word.”

Trapped for eternity suddenly didn’t seem like such a terrible fate after all. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around her small waist before squeezing her tightly to him, lifting her a good half foot off the ground. She let out a delighted giggle and he spun her around a bit, grinning at the euphoria and peals of bell-like laughter that escaped her lips before he set her down. He didn’t know how but something about their time apart had made her impossibly even more beautiful, engaging, and astute. And yet, her presence was unmistakably familiar, a pacifying balm.

She was her own woman now, he supposed.

As they crossed the threshold of the exit she squeezed his hand one last time with a smile before she darted off to her treehouse, leaving him to collect his thoughts.

He had underestimated her ability and desire to understand him better than even he understood himself. As he retreated to his own residence in the fort, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should begin confiding in someone for a change. To find someone with whom he could ease the heaviness of his heart, share his doubts, seek solace and solutions...all of the things he had long deprived himself by remaining silent. Perhaps the time for omission and protection was long since over.

  
Perhaps it was time to let her in.


	3. A Simple Waltz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Support Conversation A time, the fluff returns! God I love these two so much. I can't wait for the S Support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a joy to write this chapter, apologies for the extended wait! I am but a smol student. I'd like to thank everybody for reading as usual, and another thank you to everyone who took the time to add a comment/kudo/bookmark. I can't tell you how much your feedback brightens my day!
> 
> A/N: The only things that aren't entirely canon in this chapter are Corrin's memories related to ballroom dancing. But from what other support conversations (like Camilla's) indicate, the possibility that the royal siblings needed to learn such things is very high. 
> 
> Songs that helped inspire the creation of this chapter:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yyFY0c-eVxA  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IfFi4Q7ueA8

This time when she approached the tent, she was disheartened by the lack of sound. Silence permeated the training grounds, not a single hint of displaced air or connecting strikes to be heard. Stifling a sigh, she figured it would be as good an opportunity as any to do some actual training for once. 

As she entered, she wondered if she had been too forward the day before, pulling him into a hug without asking first. It had been eons since he allowed any physical displays of affection other than his immediate acquiescence to little Elise’s pleas for attention, unable to display his gentle nature where it was unwarranted without facing immediate retribution. For two years before she had unintentionally waged war on both nations she remembered yearning for things to be as they once were from her tower. When he would wrap his arms around each of them and squeeze them into tight embraces wordlessly, like a man starved of comfort. When they would all sit and enjoy a meal together in the day, erasing the misery with cathartic discussion and jokes at each other’s expense. When they would endure ballroom and music lessons together, complaining to each other with hushed groans and helping each other learn to sidestep father’s furious violence should they prove incompetent.

Gods she still remembered how terrible she had first been at dancing at eighteen. Her instructor had been at her wit’s end, unable to understand why Corrin had two left feet. Leo and Camilla had tried to assist when the instructor disappeared but she always stepped on their feet and remained out of rhythm regardless, their patience wasted on her inability. On the night before a prominent ball, another one of father’s many attempts to divide the inseparable siblings through profitable marriage, her instructor had tried one last time but broke down into a fit of rage when she still couldn’t get it right.

“You’re not trying hard enough! All you need to do is follow the steps, it’s a simple waltz! I should have expected this level of incompetence, you’re not a legitimate member of the royal family. They should have just left you on the streets to rot, save everyone the trouble. You’ll never find a suitor willing to put up with your lack of refinement. No wonder our illustrious king can’t stand the sight of you.” 

And with that she had spun out on her heel and slammed the door behind her. It was a wonder her glasses didn’t fall from their perch on her pinched face considering how quickly she left, her skirts swaying. As angry as she wanted to be with the instructor’s words, much of what she said was true. Plus, Corrin was more frustrated with the impossible nature of dancing and the rapidly approaching consequences than the attendant’s rage. Why couldn’t she get it right? Camilla was always so graceful on the dance floor, twirling about and following the steps with ease. Leo was just as capable, every movement as smooth and lithe as a gentleman’s should be. She was the only one that couldn’t accomplish the simple task.

Weary from extra lessons, petrified of the king’s future wrath, and burdened with self-loathing she sat down on the wooden floor with a sigh, laying her head on her bent knees. She didn’t have the energy to trudge to her bedroom just yet. She was so tired of being the stranger, the only one of the five who truly didn’t belong and frequently proved inadequate to be a part of the royal family. Sometimes she wondered if she would have been happier with her unknown family, but her heart knew that nobody could replace her siblings. Family wasn’t just about blood, it was about the people who loved you more than anything, the ones who were always by your side. Leo and Camilla’s adamance was a testament to that. They had spent so many late nights assisting her to no avail that she couldn’t stand to see them deprive themselves of sleep for nothing anymore. She had all but shoved them to their beds a few hours ago, telling them she would be fine with more practice from the instructor.

What a lie that had been.

She was about to rise from her place on the ground to head to sleep herself when she heard feet cross the floor in her direction, her mind too hazy with fatigue and drowsiness to recognize the cadence of their steps. She figured it was probably Jakob who had noticed her absence, here to chastise her before sending her off to bed with a warm cup of milk and a radiant smile. Unwilling to move, she waited for him to coax her up verbally. Instead a large, warm hand touched her shoulder, sending goosebumps alight along her flesh as heat suffused her body. Flaxen curls glowed in the low light of the surrounding lamps, gold filling her peripheral vision.

“Xander!” She cried, jumping up and latching her arms around his neck as he steadied her. A chuckle escaped him as his arms encased her waist, powerful arms pulling her close. 

“Good evening, little princess. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” He murmured into her hair.

She pulled away with a scowl, her eyes narrowing without any true discontent. “We were worried sick, it’s nearly been a year.” It was the longest duration he had ever been sent away, and it had proved unsettling for the four of them. Much as they enjoyed each other’s company, Xander’s absence was difficult to ignore. He had always been a pillar of strength, a source of courage as well as gentle guidance for each of them. She still remembered the time Leo had knocked on his office door a few months ago with a tome in hand. Questions about the realistic implementation of potential battle tactics were no doubt hastily scribbled in the margins, now dark with ink so that he could later consult the most trustworthy veteran he knew. When he was met with silence he looked up with a puzzled frown before he froze, remembering. His hand had lingered on the door, as if hoping a reply would come anyway. 

Corrin herself had had trouble sleeping in the second half of that year. Each night her mind conjured images of Xander bathed in his own blood, struck down in the heat of battle. Not because he didn’t exercise the necessary precautions, but because she knew King Garon could have him slaughtered on a whim and heralded a war hero as a cover-up. She was haunted by the thought of how easily King Garon could have a blade shoved into his son’s back, even if Xander dedicated most of his life to his nation and family. The only time those fears abated was when she could see him standing before her, flushed with life as he was now.

His smile tightened. “Yes, well, my duties to the nation must come first, much as I enjoy remaining here with you all.”

The truth went unspoken; father was trying to harden Xander’s compassionate heart with war. Each time he returned he looked more and more weary: his eyes were always accompanied by sleepless shadows, his smiles were feebler and rare, and the crease between his brows grew pronounced, as if he was in a perpetual state of worry. A quiet fury would fill her heart every time she saw him in such a state, a protective rage rising to the surface. He may have been a powerful knight, but he had his psychological limits. Despite his obedient silence he hated to kill, each life he extinguished for his father’s selfish purposes weighed on him heavily.

There were so many times she wanted to stand before the king and demand he change his ways, if for nothing else then for his son’s sanity and well-being. But she knew he was beyond reason, and that her defiance would be unleashed tenfold on Xander. She wasn’t sure what was worse; Xander’s acquiescence or her powerlessness. The only reason she hadn’t protested to Xander himself was because he clearly hoped the king would return to his senses someday. And she wasn’t sure how, but she sensed something malignant within King Garon that clung to the vestiges of his humanity, masquerading as the stern yet benevolent father Xander remembered so fondly. Without proof that this change was irrevocable, however, Xander would know no reason, of that she was certain.

“I didn’t think you would be here until tomorrow morning,” she remarked as she disentangled herself. “You must be exhausted, you should have gone straight to bed.” She scolded, moving to push his expansive back towards the east wing. At least he had been self-aware enough to remove his armor she thought as she shook her head.

He turned his head to raise a brow at her hypocrisy, not budging in the slightest. “That was the plan, but I encountered fewer delays than I expected. Why aren’t you in bed yourself, Corrin? Camilla, Leo, and Elise have all retired for the night.”

She pursed her lips and stared at the floor, unwilling to admit her reasons. She didn’t want him to worry about her too, as she was certain he would. He made everyone’s problems his own as well.

When she remained silent, trying to come up with a believable excuse, nimble fingers began to chase across her torso, eliciting a squeak and breathless laughter. “Hey! Stop! No fair!” She squirmed as she tried to lean out of his reach with little success.

He kept his face expressionless though humor danced in his mahogany eyes, his tone grave. “It’s very simple, little princess. Out with it and the torture ends.”

She held out as long as possible before she agreed, hanging her head in defeat. His triumphant smirk would have been hilarious if her confession wasn’t so mortifying. “You’re evil.” She accused, stalling.

“Acknowledged.” He grinned. When she still hesitated to continue he sighed, his voice growing soft. “You know you can tell me anything, Corrin. Is there a demon under your bed again?” He teased, hoping memories of fonder times would make her more comfortable to talk about it. Why was it that nobody confided in him anymore? Every time he came to the fortress there was always a subtle reluctance to reach out to him, left to his office and his own thoughts after the first few days of returning. Did he make them feel unwelcome to approach him with their problems? 

Much to his relief, it earned him one of his favorite smiles and a giggle. “I wish, I have the best demon slayer in all the realm before me.” But then a frown followed in its wake. “No, I just...I’ve been struggling to learn ballroom dancing. I’ve been trying for weeks but it seems I’m a lost cause.” She glared at her traitorous feet, flushing with embarrassment and unable to meet his gaze. When he didn’t say anything, she started to ramble. “It doesn’t matter I’ll just stay glued to my chair tomorrow, it’s not like I don’t have more time to learn I--”

“Nonsense,” He said firmly before his expression smoothed over with indulgence. “It’s all in the leading.” 

He positioned her arm so that it lay comfortably on his own placed around the middle of her back, intertwining their opposing empty hands. His serene demeanor was incredibly soothing, her shoulders easing at the lack of public scrutiny and immediate judgement. She had been silly to think that he would laugh at her; Xander understood anxiety and the pressure of expectation all too well. 

“Ready?” He eyed her carefully.

She bit her lip and took a deep breath. After she exhaled, she nodded. She stared intently at their feet swapping positions for the first few minutes, gritting her teeth each time she made a mistake. But Xander radiated peace from above her, not chagrined in the slightest when she stepped on his feet. When she did, he said nothing, simply continuing on.

“Corrin?” She looked up to meet his searching eyes and upon seeing that he was content as could be, she relaxed again. “Please tell me everything I’ve missed.”

At first, she wasn’t sure where to begin. But after she did she couldn’t seem to stop. She started to talk about all the annoying suitors that hounded her and Camilla and Leo, or how Elise was growing up so fast and none of them wanted her to be forced into meeting strangers for uncomfortable luncheons like they were just yet, or how Leo wanted more responsibility but she and Camilla wanted him to remain untouched by war as long as possible. And then there were the silly things, like Camilla losing her circlet while Corrin and Leo stumbled upon Elise hoarding it with an envious but good-natured pout. Or Leo wearing his collar backwards to their last collective music lesson, resulting in a hearty scolding from the instructor. Or Camilla threatening to chop Jakob’s arms off and feed them to Marzia if he didn’t let her fold Corrin’s laundry. 

His expression throughout her explanations was thoughtful, exhibiting mild changes that aligned with the subject matter. Sometimes he would chuckle, sometimes he would sigh and shake his head, and sometimes the little crease between his brows reappeared for a short duration. He guided her around and around for a long time, while she was heedless of the growing accuracy of her own movements. When she had run out of things to say, she noticed his proximity all at once.

He held her close, the warmth of his arm on her back warding away the invading chill that accompanied the night in the stone fortress. His eyes that guarded unfathomable secrets, as impenetrable as corundum, had warmed to the spectacular shade of Gunter’s favorite brandy, every bit as scalding and intoxicating as the aged beverage. The familiar scent of sweat, sandalwood, and just a touch of smoke from the fire no doubt blazing in his bedroom clung to his fresh clothing, blanketing her sensitive senses. She hadn’t realized how much she missed the myriad of aromas until now, inhaling discreetly as if to embed them into her lungs. For the first time in so long she felt warm, safe, and unalterably content. Her head lowered of its own volition to rest upon his chest, the steady thrum beneath the silk of his shirt her favorite lullaby.

For some, home truly did have a heartbeat.

“Little princess?” His quiet voice rumbled pleasurably beneath her ear, rough from disuse in the time they had spent practicing. 

She didn’t move, still inebriated by his presence, her head heavy. “Mm?”

“Look down,” he urged.

When she found the strength to do so she watched dazedly as her feet moved in perfect synchronization with his, her eyes widening at the uncharacteristic elegance of her own limbs.

“I--but--how--” She sputtered, unable to understand. 

His answer was a delighted chuckle, his beaming expression doing strange things to her heart and once infallible knees. When was the last time he looked so unabashedly overjoyed? She couldn’t think of a single instance in recent memory. 

“See? You had it in you all along. Your anxiety was just getting the better of your muscle memory. You’re more than ready for tomorrow.” He explained, as if it was the most obvious and true thing in the world.

Her hands tightened on his arm and hand, old fears surfacing anew at the thought of tomorrow night’s ball. What if she was only capable now because she was comfortable with him and an acute lack of a surrounding audience? She could foresee the impending disaster. “But what if--”

In a smooth, effortless twist he dipped her, effectively ending her train of thought. She gazed with surprise at the determined set of his mouth above her as he shook his head. “Trust yourself as I do, Corrin. You are more than capable. It doesn’t matter what those power-hungry nobles think. You mustn’t let their words deter you, they would find something to criticize no matter how poised you or I proved to be.” His stern discourse softened, along with with the hard line of his mouth. “And never forget, Camilla and I shall be beside you every step of the way.”

He always knew exactly what she needed to hear, her qualms disappearing as a newfound confidence surfaced. When he steadied her and let his arms fall from their fixed positions she smiled up at him, visibly heartened by his reassurance. “Thank you, Xander. And...” She trailed off, unsure if the request would be met with disapproval.

He raised a brow, a signal for her to continue.

She could feel the tips of her ears reddening. “Can I dance with you if it gets to be too much at times?” Part of her just wanted to dance with him the entire night. If it was as splendid as tonight was, it would take every iota of her willpower to force herself to dance with others.

“Of course.” The answer was as immediate as it was undeniable. She would have nothing to fear so long as he was there, he would make it so. “Now I think it’s time you and I both slept before morning comes.”

He then held out his elbow to intertwine with her own, placing a comforting pat on her hand as he extinguished the lamps on the walls and led her out of the room.

The next day, words of praise regarding Corrin’s entrancing abilities spread like wildfire, not to mention the handsome couple she and Xander made together on the dance floor. The onlookers meant it in a purely platonic sense, but the moment she heard it phrased in such a way she began to think more deeply about her relationship with him. From that point on she became actively aware of her feelings and the fact that they did not, and perhaps never did, emulate what she should feel towards a brother. She loved Leo, but she did not crave his presence and affection in quite the same way. They recommended and read books to each other, horsed around, protected each other, and comforted each other but that was it. There was no feeling of loss when he was elsewhere, followed by a consistent yearning to be in his company. Nor did she feel at such complete ease in his presence, content to simply embrace him and remain close to the soothing hearth that was his body. There was no quiet reverence, a silent acceptance and appreciation of each other's strengths and weaknesses. There was no absurd exhilaration that followed any and all of his attentions.

But most of all, she felt zero physical attraction for Leo. The very thought seemed wrong and remained exceedingly uncomfortable to the point where it was unimaginable. Meanwhile the sight of Xander made heat suffuse her body, all broad chest and lean waist and exquisite features. She couldn’t remember how many times she had wanted to trace the hard line of his jaw, play with his silky golden hair, or hold his hand. When he was calming her down that night before the ball, she noticed he hadn’t been wearing his customary cravat, likely forgotten in his weariness. The urge to touch her lips to the pale expanse of his throat, right at the hollow at the center of his collarbone, had flared. As soon as it did she stamped it out ruthlessly, knowing he didn’t feel the same way. She had no right to impose such feelings if he only saw her as a sister.

And so from that point on she had remained silent about the evolution of her love, not at all certain he had the slightest inkling or reciprocated what she felt. She settled for enjoying his company whenever he did approach, always careful to use her siblings when speaking of her fondness to conceal her true sentiments. 

But sometimes it had been difficult to hide. When the war had progressed and she remained neutral, the ferocity of his disapproval and the clear pain it brought him to consider her an enemy made each encounter bittersweet. On one hand, she was elated to see him alive and well. On the other, the knowledge that he would never come near her with benevolent intent again had been excruciating. Each time they had crossed paths she had blinked back tears, firm in her conviction but wounded no less by the necessary division. When Azura had suggested that Iago was sent to ambush them under Xander’s orders, her heart had cried out in protest.  _ He would never do this!  _ It screamed.  _ His tactics would never be so underhanded!  _ And then he and Leo had appeared on the battlefield, promising to fight by her side and trusting her judgement to achieve world peace. The relief that had coursed through her veins at that moment had been staggering, revitalizing her efforts until they defeated Iago with ease. 

From that point on every harsh word exchanged since her disassociation with Nohr had been forgiven. Largely because she knew the words had been a reflection of his anguish and a product of King Garon’s surveilling officers. If he had wavered in his dedication to Nohr, he would have been questioned and put to death immediately. What mattered in the end was that he had placed his faith in her. And as soon as he was able to justify his cause to the skeptical Nohrian people and see that his father was beyond saving, he immediately stood at her side without reproach. It had taken everything in her to keep from embracing him as tightly as she was able, to tell him how much she missed hearing his voice laden with something other than contempt. To tell him how glad she was that they could finally fight together again.

Though she never imagined how difficult it would be to conceal her feelings now that he chose to be with her. The more they debated and strategized and talked about an endless array of things, the more she adored everything about him. His admirable character, his unshakeable resolve, his deeply compassionate heart, the rare emergence of his bashful nature. There were no mad kings or backstabbing officials to stop them now, and the depth of her feelings was growing at an alarming rate. 

She sighed, annoyed with herself. She was acting like a lovestruck teenager. Even Laslow wasn’t so hopelessly infatuated with the women he chased. With a forceful shake of her head, she stopped dawdling and headed towards the grounds. When she crossed the threshold she faltered when her gaze met a pair of conflicted burgundy eyes and a tall form leaning on a wooden sword at the center of his stance, both palms resting on the rounded hilt.

A small smile crossed his face. He was pleased to see her. “Ah, Corrin. I've been waiting for you. I knew you'd turn up eventually.”

Her cheeks warmed, stifling the hope that arose with the sight. “Ugh, am I that predictable?” She shook her head with a shrug. “Oh well. Shall we begin?” She invited as she retrieved a practice sword herself.

He nodded. “Certainly.” 

Without delay, they began to trade strikes, the sound of clattering wood filling the preliminary stillness. His movements were precise and dexterous, but he was only defending against her attacks and retaliating as little as possible. He did nothing to challenge her focus or strategy and he didn’t pinpoint any holes in her technique, indicating that his thoughts were elsewhere. She figured he would speak his mind on his own time, so she simply followed through, enjoying the chance to stretch and rid her body of residual tension from the day’s activities. Eventually, his tentative voice rang out, a shadow of his usual authoritative tone.

“...Corrin…” She lowered the sword and looked directly at him with an obliging smile. At times she forgot how timid he was by nature, reminding her to show him that he could speak his mind. “Did you mean it when you said you prefer to hear what's on my mind?”

“I meant it with all my heart.” She murmured seriously as she let her sword hang by her side, practice long forgotten. She wanted to understand him as much as possible, and that could only be done by listening intently to all that he had to say when he chose to speak. This was the equality she had wanted to establish between them for so long now. 

He took a deep breath, as if to prepare himself for her reaction or his own explanation, she couldn’t be sure which. Perhaps it was both. “I see... Well, I suppose I owe you the courtesy of explaining a thing or two.” He paused, exhibiting the slightest hesitation before his voice returned. “You were right about me taking out my anger at Father during my training. Sometimes being crown prince means following the king's orders no matter what. But there were times when I felt his commands crossed a line. Sometimes it didn't feel like he was trying to benefit the kingdom at all, just himself.” His expression became progressively agitated, equal parts weary and belligerent before it cleared just as quickly as it came. “Having to do things I didn't believe in weighed heavily on my heart. Now I'm wise enough and brave enough to stand up to Father. But back then…” He grimaced, as if embarrassed of his own violent ardor and helplessness. “Those were the nights you spoke of, when I swung my blade like a wild beast.” 

Just as she thought, but the fact that she was right didn’t make the truth easier to accept. She couldn’t imagine the turmoil he had suffered as a young man, without letting any of them help him carry that burden. It was a reflection of the arduous times she had known trying to rally her families to her once ambiguous cause. She remembered the loneliness all too well, the endless hours spent questioning her intuitive decision. In those days, she truly hadn’t been sure what was worse. A life of freedom as a traitor to both nations, or a princess trapped in her tower. “Xander…” The single word held a world of understanding, impossible to be articulated.

His answering smile was rueful. “I never thought I'd tell you that. I always tried to shield you from such things. A sword is a strange and beautiful thing... Sometimes just one swing of your blade can communicate more than a lifetime of words.” His pensive gaze fell to the weapon in his hand before he was able to look her in the eye again. “Thank you for listening, Corrin. Both to my blade back then and my words now.”

“No need to thank me. I didn't do anything but listen. And pry.” She replied, rubbing her forearm shyly under the intensity of his grateful stare. She really hadn’t done all that much but care about him, something that came naturally. She just wanted him to be happy, no matter who he confided in or what that meant.

His answer was as fervent as it was quiet, as if he was afraid to say something so profound out loud. “You did more than you know. It's thanks to you...that I don't feel alone anymore.” 

Her heart fluttered upon hearing those words. “Xander... It means the world to me to hear you say that. You saved me from my own loneliness when I was a child, locked away from the world... I'm so happy to finally repay the favor. It was always my dearest wish to do so. If you ever feel like talking, about anything, I'm always here for you.”

“I don't wish for you to lose sleep over my troubles…” The conflicted look returned, likely the root of his hesitance to reveal his thoughts all evening.

She shook her head vehemently, grinning brightly at him. She wanted to be there for him for the rest of his days, even if it was only as a sister and confidant. “I've been losing sleep over you for years now, ha ha. It's my favorite tradition.” She assured.

His answering smile was as tender as it was disarming. “As you wish, Corrin. From now on I promise to let you in.” 

  
From that day forward, it was a rare event when the two were not seen together. Whether it was on the battlefield, patrolling the fort, or training the pair was inseparable.


	4. A Final Arrangement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment you have all been waiting for, the S-Support Conversation! Time for Corrin and Xander to get serious, or just seriously adorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm sorry it's been so long since I last updated (almost two whole months yikes I'm rude) but I hope the length and intricacy of this particular installment will make up for my absence! This chapter was 49 pages in my GoogleDoc, to which I stared and began to wonder if I needed serious help. Regardless of the fact that I probably do, I'd like to thank everybody for reading as usual, and thank everyone who took the time to add a comment/kudo/bookmark. You're feedback means the world!
> 
> Inspired, at least musically, by: Most of the Hamilton soundtrack, but I feel like the Revelations-heavy parts remind me of Wait for It the most.
> 
> I'd also like to extend a special thank you to PinkLily for listening to my crazed concerns regarding canonization and all of our splendid conversations, both Xander-related and not Xander-related. You're the absolute best PinkLily, thanks again!
> 
> AND LOOK AT THIS AMAZING FANART PINKLILY MADE OF CORRIN AND XANDER INSPIRED BY THIS CHAPTER I AM LOSING MY MIND IT'S GORGEOUS AND I'M HAVING IT FRAMED AND I'M HONORED BEYOND WORDS SOMEBODY HOLD ME!!: http://reid-pax.deviantart.com/art/Dancers-xCorianderx-Updated-615048434?ga_submit_new=10%253A1465864045&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1&ga_recent=1
> 
> I have been considering writing a few omakes and maybe taking up Xander and Siegbert's support chains, because I honestly can't get enough of anything Xander-related. What do you all think? Please feel free to let me know!

He turned the tiny object over in his palm for the hundredth time, unable to focus on his work as he scrutinized the lustrous sheen for any imperfections in his nervous anticipation. He stared, holding it up to the light of a nearby candle on his desk, but there wasn’t a single smudge or scratch to be found. The band was created with the finest Nohrian silver money could buy, crafted by the most renowned jeweler in all the land. He had had Peri and Laslow help him scour the nation for the perfect craftsman and raw materials, and after an entire month of outings disguised as reconnaissance and ration excursions he now held the delicate product of their joint efforts. A ring befitting the love of his life, meant to symbolize his eternal commitment to ascertaining her daily happiness and safety, a duty he was only too delighted to fulfill. The thought alone warmed his heart, muting the uneasiness lurking in his stomach as a slow but radiant smile curved his lips.

He hoped she would be partial to what he had finally decided upon but he knew Corrin, knew that she wouldn’t want him going to such extremes over a material possession. Knew that if she felt the same way and agreed to his proposal, as he hoped she would, she would only care that it was _his_ ring on her finger, no matter the size or shape or cost. What would matter to her above all else would be what the ring meant for the two of them from that day forward; that they would always be together. Through this war and whatever the future held, they would face it standing side by side, each other’s bulwark against adversity and whatever ills fate unleashed. At the end of each day, they would be able to return from their duties to a kindred spirit and open arms, to the quiet haven that was their home and beloved. The very vision of such a future filled him with a fierce longing and ambition he hadn’t known in years, not since he’d trained endlessly as a young man to be able to wield Siegfried.

Thus he had gone to such extremes, not solely for her sake but for his own peace of mind as well. He wanted to give her something he had placed all of his heart into creating. He wanted something worthy of her, even if he was not.

Though he couldn’t help but wonder, as he stared at the gemstones glinting in response to the light’s attentions, when his affection had grown into something so much more potent than the love he held for both Camilla and Elise. For Corrin, the silent directive that incited his body to action no longer remained _protect your family,_ but _protect your life_.

He still remembered the first day they had met with vivid accuracy. He had been but fifteen years old when father had informed him of a potential new sibling, and despite the few questions he had been allowed to ask he knew little and understood even less. According to what he could glean from castle gossip, something that had festered in abundance ever since father had changed, she was a princess stolen from the rival nation of Hoshido. He wasn’t sure what it meant at the time, or why father had decided to kidnap the young girl, but nonetheless he was curious. What would she be like, this newcomer?

More importantly, however, he was concerned. Worried about what father would decide to do with her in the days to come. Father had been purposefully vague, indicating that he was undecided as of now. Any number of fates could befall her, whether she became a bargaining chip in their national rivalry, a new part of their growing family, or a casualty left to fend for herself. His father’s mental deterioration guaranteed little. Ever since Queen Arete’s disappearance so long ago, father had not been himself in the slightest. Gone was the stern yet kind disposition of the man he had known, replaced by a ruthless despot who cared little for the well-being of his children or his rapidly deteriorating country. For years Xander had forced himself to believe that his father would realize the error of his ways, would return to the man he respected and admired as a young boy. But as he continued to watch his people chafe under the king’s unreasonable demands and his father laud people of questionable character and motive, his resolve gradually waned. What hope was there for the future of this struggling nation in comparison to the untroubled, bountiful Hoshido? How could he, a mere boy, reconcile lifetimes of war and troubled peace? Cynicism and endless doubt had loomed in those days, threatening to drown him.

After he had attended father’s aforementioned briefing his retainers, Cleitia and Hephaestion, had accompanied him down the hall of the South Wing to attend a history lesson. Gunter, by chance, had been holding the tiny hand of a figure in a dark cloak across the way. The person was a head or so shorter than him and shuffled forward with clear dejection, their shoulders curled inward. As soon as Gunter noticed the group passing by, he stopped and acknowledged the prince as was customary. Such scrutiny and attention always made Xander uncomfortable, but father insisted that he practice displays of dominance as royalty to improve his public speaking, even within the fortress.

“Prince Xander,” Gunter bowed.

The small figure beside him hesitated in the expectant silence that followed, looking to Gunter as if unsure of what to do. Gunter turned to the black mass and lowered their hood, his voice a soothing rumble as he tucked strands of hair behind their ear. Xander gawked as the veteran’s characteristic weathered scowl morphed into an encouraging smile, not unlike the kind he beheld on his own father’s face so long ago.

“Corrin this is the Crown Prince of Nohr, Prince Xander. He may become your older brother someday, so be sure to treat him with the utmost respect.”

When Gunter stood aside to let her greet the party of three each expertly contained their surprise, unwilling to startle the girl. She was exceedingly strange, unlike any other person he had ever seen. Her hair was white, not the pale blonde prevalent in the Nohrian royal family but a hue that was truly colorless, the short tresses flowing to her shoulders like moonbeams. Pointed ears similar to that of the fantastical fey creatures he had seen in story books poked out from the carefully groomed strands, dainty and striking. Scarlet eyes blanketed by mauve shadows blinked back at him curiously, not maroon like his or Leo’s but the same color his mother’s favorite ruby earrings had been. Even her skin was not dark like many from Hoshido, it was only temporarily tinged by elongated exposure to the sun. He found it odd; few from Hoshido were so naturally pale, nor were any of her physical traits prevalent among their population. Everything about this girl was an anomaly. 

He wanted to shake his head, as if to clear it of the plethora of strange things he had just witnessed. As if doing so could make sense of the last few minutes. He would have sooner believed she was a fairy or an elf from a distant land than a Hoshidan royal.

Corrin bowed as well, unable to curtsy quite yet. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, big brother.” Her voice shook a bit but she held firm, as if she was holding herself together by sheer willpower alone. As weary and frightened as she appeared, the child still had the miraculous ability to look hopeful. His chest tightened. Here he was, surrounded by his family and homeland without a concern in the world other than his future title. Meanwhile this girl’s world had been torn asunder, forced into an unfamiliar home full of strangers with no chance of returning to the life she had known. She had every right to hate every single person in that fortress, especially him and his father. Yet there she stood, fighting every desire to be melancholy. Seeking understanding rather than conflict, gazing at him as if it were her dearest wish to befriend him.

So young, and it seemed she already had so much to teach him. He still wasn’t strong enough, in body or mind. 

When a smile came to his face unbidden, earnest and wide, he could no longer wonder how she had enchanted Gunter into gentleness. So too, was his amiable murmur. “The pleasure is all mine, little princess.” 

Gunter then insisted they continue on so as not to keep Xander from his studies, replacing the hood and guiding Corrin in the opposite direction as she continued to stare at Xander in wonder. He could only imagine the less than kind responses she had received from the other Nohrian nobles and royals.

“Xander,” Hephaestion chided from behind him as the pair disappeared from their sight, “Do not give her false hope. The poor girl has already suffered enough tragedy to last a lifetime. The king’s mercy is not something to be taken lightly.” _There is no guarantee that he will spare her,_ were the only words that his retainer had left unspoken.

Xander turned, his expression so fierce and determined that both retainers were shocked to find that the skittish, bashful prince was nowhere to be found. “Who said anything about false hope?” 

The next four years were spent convincing his father of her worth as a permanent member of their family, inundating him with reports of her stellar conduct and capabilities. She never misbehaved and was not particularly defiant other than her sole aversion to wearing shoes. She attended her lessons without fail and excelled in her academic pursuits, as indicated by her plethora of pleased instructors. She rarely left her room as father’s mandate demanded, only requesting periodic escorts to the library in the south wing to retrieve a number of books each week. Though he never encountered her because he spent most of his time in the castle as he grew older, many indicated that she was a joy around the fortress; there wasn’t a single individual within the dreary structure that was displeased to encounter her sunny countenance. Even Gunter, who was always gruff and measured in his praise of the royal children, lauded her without end in the company of others. She had everyone wrapped around her alluring little finger in the space of a few years, and he couldn’t fault them.

After all, it had only taken a single encounter to enthrall him as well.

With combined persuasion from Xander, Gunter, and his advisors the king grudgingly allowed Corrin to interact with her adopted siblings and have greater freedom beyond her bedroom walls on her tenth birthday. Following that day, Xander coordinated an afternoon in which all of the siblings could gather in one of the playrooms to meet her as soon as possible. He feared she had grown lonely in the time she had spent locked away in her room, without a companion with whom she could play or speak. At the very least he had had Camilla as a boy, and they had been able to grow up together and entertain each other, maintaining a vital camaraderie in the face of familial or personal adversity. Corrin, as of now, had no one but Gunter, Felicia, Flora, and the terse orphan that had pledged to become her retainer as soon as he became of age. And each individual never had the time to grant her extended company.

Moreover, ever since he had informed the others of his first encounter and all that he’d heard they were impatient to meet her. They insisted she become a part of the inseparable little surrogate family they had created to withstand father’s neglect, a creation he would defend to his dying breath. He didn’t feel at home if he wasn’t surrounded by Leo’s pervasive questions that made him doubt his own knowledge, Elise’s persistent penchant for games and giggling, or Camilla’s ruthless abundance of motherly concern. It was among the few things that distracted him from the weight of his duties and uncertainties, something that brought him immeasurable joy. 

He would later find that his arrangement would be a far greater success than he could have ever hoped, most likely due to Corrin’s immutably congenial disposition. From that day forward she could frequently be seen rolling around the playroom with Elise, spending long hours conversing and seeking answers in the library with Leo, or following Camilla about like an adorable duckling following its mother. But even more heartwarming, she had welcomed him with open arms as well, constantly seeking opportunities to be near to him. Always seeking his hand to hold, or asking to ride on his shoulders over large distances, or stealing his circlet so that he would give chase; all of which he enjoyed indulging her. Since he was usually busy during the day finishing his formal schooling, training, or completing errands issued by father, they had established an agreement. Whenever he was in the fortress and had an unoccupied moment before her bedtime, he would come to her room after Gunter had tucked her in for the night to read her any story she wanted. And sure enough, she was always prepared, even if he was gone for days or weeks on end. She would be there waiting with a bright, expectant smile when he opened the door, jumping out of bed to embrace him before she retrieved a book from her desk. It would always be the highlight of a weary day after being surrounded by people clamoring their expectations and demands, to sit beside one who accepted him for all that he was, only seeking his proximity with benevolent intent.

He still remembered one particular night, not long after he had turned nineteen. It had been after his first official battle against a small, rebellious series of villages just north of the fortress. His father had ordered him to organize a fraction of the nation’s forces and crush the uprising to prove his capability as the future general of the Nohrian army. Reluctant but unable to do anything less, Xander had amassed his resources and strategically crippled the enemy’s militia before demanding the unconditional surrender of their leader. However the conflict did not end as smoothly as he had hoped. He tried his hardest to minimize enemy casualties, but there were those who refused to live on if they did not succeed on the battlefield on that eve, attacking relentlessly.

He had lost count of the number of fatal blows he had unleashed by the end of the fight, voluntary or involuntary. It wasn’t the first time he had been refused a choice, to decide what he wished to do rather than what he must do. But he could not comprehend the gravity of this choice until he actively made it. To survive, to protect Camilla, Corrin, Leo, Elise, and an entire nation of people above this small coalition of villages. Nobody should have the power to decide who deserved to live and who deserved to die, no single person had that right. That right was reserved to fate and fate alone. So did that make him a blasphemous monster for manipulating the outcome in his favor with his comparative abundance of resources? For deciding his life and those of his loved ones meant more than that of other human beings? It was all he could think in the carriage as he stared at his bloodied hands and the once polished blade of Siegfried beside him, acrid and sullied. It was the only thing that kept him sane as he remembered the harrowing screams of the surrounding women and children, of the dying men themselves. The empty eyes of the fallen would haunt him forever, gazing into the sky sightlessly as they drowned in their own blood. Men that would never rise again, never tend to their fields and families, never _live_ again.

When he returned to the fortress, he had managed to force an unperturbed expression on his face, his mouth a stoic line. His father would not take to turmoil as a result of enacting his simplest duties as a soldier and prince. As soon as the enormous structure had loomed into sight he had forced himself to take a deep breath, identify each and every emotion, and bury them as deeply as he could into his heart until he was numb. Until he couldn’t feel anything at all. Until all that mattered was briefing his father on their victory and burying all rational thought with the force of his training. Anything to keep him from doing something he would regret, to keep him from exposing weakness to all that looked to him for glory and strength. Anything to dull the memory of what he had done.

Unable to face his siblings and unsure how long he could remain level-headed, he went directly to the throne room where his father awaited. Father had temporarily stayed in the fortress during the time of the uprising as a precautionary measure, likely to remind insubordinate strongholds that his power, both offensive and defensive, did not weaken with distance.

“Well, boy? What news do you bring?” Father asked in his usual monotone after he requested entry. 

“We succeeded father, the band of rebels was subdued. Their leader was promptly eliminated and there seems little chance of future rebellion. We were explicitly clear about the repercussions of any and all acts of defiance.” He reported dutifully, the words like sand in his mouth. _They were people!_ He wanted to scream, _Living, breathing human beings! Couldn’t we have negotiated instead of resorting to violence! Wasn’t there any other wa-_

“So you did,” His father intoned with approval, gazing at his bloodied appearance. “And I see you enjoyed yourself too, well done.” Xander bit back the bile that arose at the sight of his sadistic glee, a delighted cackle filling the chamber before he waved his son off. 

“You are excused.” He finished when he had calmed down, pride suffusing his features.

Xander wasn’t sure how he had exited the chamber with a silent nod in thanks and reached his room without having to face another person. It was all a blur, one moment he had been with his father and the next in his private lavatory. He had stared in the looking glass and cringed at the sight of blood across his face, some of which was his own but most of which was that of others. His forces hadn’t suffered any casualties, only a few scrapes here and there. The opposing side had been composed of mere farmers; they never stood a chance. Not without the proper numbers or training or weapons, no matter the abundance of spirit they possessed. He wasn’t foolish enough to underestimate his enemy, but there were some harsh truths that simply were.

Clenching his jaw, he threw off his armor and garments in a pile to be tended to in the morning, unable to look at them any longer. He knew it would be harder to remove the crimson splotches the longer he left them unattended, but he could not be bothered. Instead he climbed into the bath he had asked to be prepared upon his arrival and scrubbed at his skin until it was raw, until the water was brown and filthy and he was some degree of clean. As if he could wash some measure of the inhumane things he had done down the drain. Even so, he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror as he dressed once again, avoiding his own eyes. Afraid he would see naught but a self-righteous murderer.

Without sparing a glance to the four poster bed mere feet away he made a beeline for the training grounds, ignoring the fatigue screaming from his mind and bones. He knew if he slept he would only linger on the day’s events, nightmares certain to form from his recollections. But his route to the grounds soon led him past Corrin’s bedroom, in a separate section from that of the other siblings since she had originally been situated in the servant’s quarters. His pace faltered as he passed the door, wondering if she was awake and waiting for a story. Indecision warred; he truly did want to read to her and see that beaming delight, but was he in any state of mind to soothe her to sleep right now? A hand reached out to the door knob before it clenched into a fist. How could he ever look her in the eye again after what he’d done? He was no longer and never had been the brother his siblings idolized and adored.

Against his better judgement he found the door opening, his entrance tentative as he peered over the threshold to see if she was awake. Downcast cerise eyes met his blearily before they snapped open, glowing and effervescent at the sight of his frozen form. She sat up abruptly and hopped down from the bed in a rush, arms wrapping around his torso and head pressed against his chest before he could say a word. He hesitated before he returned the gesture, resisting the urge to embrace her as tightly as possible. To remain that way for as long as he needed, until the dull ache in his chest subsided. But he came here for her, not himself. He drew back, masking his reluctance with an indulgent smile that surfaced at the sight of her excitement.

“I didn’t think you would still be awake, little princess. How do you fair?” He closed the door behind him as she scampered off in her sapphire nightgown to bring him her book.

“Good! I’ve almost caught up with Leo in my lessons now, and Gunter says I can start sword training soon!” She bounced about at the thought before she was overtaken by a quiet thoughtfulness. She took in his fresh garments and mildly appalled expression with curiosity, her gaze earnest and engaged. “We all missed you today. How was your day, big brother?”

He bit back the fresh revulsion born of the evening’s massacre that accompanied the notion of training her to fight, at encouraging her to experience the same trauma he had that night. But he forced himself to be rational about the matter. She needed to be skilled in order to defend herself. They _all_ had to face that reality someday, and the more prepared they were the better. He could not allow his emotions to cloud his judgement. “Well done, your progress has been remarkable.” He tapped a finger to her nose, the corners of his lips twitching upward for the first time that entire week at the sound of her answering laughter. “My day proceeded well; I am alive and whole, and with my favorite person in all the world once again.”

He then sat on the bed and she climbed in after him to nestle herself in his lap, holding out the book over their legs so that they could both see the text and pictures. When he opened the book to begin, she smacked his hand playfully and scowled at him.

“You didn’t read the title, Xander!” She scolded.

“Ah, yes, my apologies. How silly of me,” He feigned surprise before turning back to the cover to start again, grinning covertly at his own teasing. “‘Grimhild’s Book of Fairy Tales: A Collection.’ Let’s see, ‘There once was...’” 

The stories within were short and not unlike the myths he had studied long ago in his history courses: simple, captivating, and didactic. He read on and on in a low voice, enjoying the pleasant distraction from his woes as Corrin reacted adorably to the different events. Whether it was a tinkling giggle that accompanied his dramatic descriptions, or a shake of her head in warning as a character decided to do something foolhardy, or the way she lifted her feet up and down in agonized suspense, it soothed his heart. Perhaps he had done terrible things, but at the very least, his efforts had helped to protect his siblings and ascertain their happiness until they were ready to face the world themselves. Justice be damned, there was no such thing, he realized. All a single person could do was cherish what they loved and fight to the last breath to keep it safe if peace was not an option. And until it was, he would do what he had to do in order to keep reading to her like this. To be able to come home in the afternoons and evenings and share a meal with them all unperturbed, their only concern who was the next target of their light-hearted berating and what matter of royal training they were obligated to endure next.

As they read on, Corrin began to comment on the characters more and more.

“Oh! That princess has Camilla hair! Look how long and pretty it is! I hope I have hair like that one day.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her awe. “I’m sure you will, little princess.”

“And that’s Leo and that’s Elise...and that’s you, Xander!” She pointed at the knight in shining armor, leading the princess from the danger he had vanquished.

“Me?” He asked, bewildered.

“Yup!” She turned back with a decisive nod and a grin. “Of course you are! Nobody’s stronger or more noble than my big brother!” She said firmly as she poked him in the side, prompting him to keep reading.

He had the sudden urge to correct her, pursing his lips as protests bubbled to his lips. _You have it all wrong,_ he wanted to shout until the heavens themselves could hear him, _I am no hero and I am no knight. Just a prince following orders. I have no honor, I am_ not _noble or strong. I could not even defy father to save their lives..._

Instead he kept on reading, swallowing his words. Despite her growing drowsiness, she continued with her comparisons, likely in an attempt to keep herself awake. And without fail, she compared him to the valiant hero, the righteous knight, and the triumphant prince in every single tale. At first it made him feel even worse. It felt like he was lying to her, like the brother she had perceived in her mind was an absolute farce. And yet, he couldn’t deny that there was something flattering and inspiring about her habit. She had so much faith in his capability, judgement, and inherent goodness, more than he felt he deserved or truly embodied. But unlike the suffocating pressure he felt from others to be the paragon prince of his nation, this perception only made him feel as though he _could_ fulfill that role someday. That he could become the person she could always rely on and believe in, no matter how powerless and terrible he felt now. She made it sound like the progression was nothing but inevitable. He couldn’t think of a single time in his life somebody had expressed such unconditional confidence in his abilities, not since he sat beside his father when he was no older than a toddler. When his father would tell him stories of past kings and his belief that Xander would be the greatest ruler of them all, equal measures regal and sympathetic.

Tears welled in his eyes before he could stop them, before he even knew they had gathered at all. And despite his best efforts to blink them back they pooled and fell, staining the bottom edge of the page. Corrin was fast asleep at this point, her breathing soft and even, turned on her side and using his chest as a pillow. Taking a shaky breath, he scrubbed the moisture away with the heel of his palm, glaring at the streaks that had betrayed his composed exterior before he sighed. He closed the book and laid it on her bedside table, turning down the lamp as he lifted her gingerly and tucked her back into bed. Moving to the door he reached to turn off the lamp, but his hand hovered above the switch as he took in her serene form one last time, as if the sight of her alone could give him the impetus to forge on. Then he extinguished the light and closed the door as quietly as possible, renewed determination saturating every footfall to the training grounds.

It was time to prove himself.

The boy that entered and the man that left that room were not one in the same, and the change was palpable for all those who chose to notice it. From that day forward he was second to none in his skill with a sword, no longer doubting himself quite so much as encouraging himself to work harder, to strive further, to seek the limits of his endurance. In a matter of a few years he grew; from the young man certain he could not do his nation or father justice to the self-assured, taciturn force of nature that was as skilled in his stroke of the pen and tongue as he was with his sword. He eventually earned the right to discuss the nation’s course of action over disputes and insubordination, in which he exercised his power to be as fair as possible within the bounds of his father’s limitations. Little by little, he was helping to improve the conditions for all within Nohr, no matter how slow the rate of his advancement.

So too did his siblings grow in that time. Camilla had grown into an even greater mother-hen than before, doting endlessly on the four of them no matter their half-hearted objections. Leo remained nothing less than a prodigy, his remarkable mind moving faster than any of them could anticipate as he mastered the arts of magic and strategy, choosing mind over matter. Xander still remembered the relief that had coursed through him when Leo had chosen runes and talismans over the sword, unsure he could have kept up with his little brother’s incredible progress. Elise remained their childish wonder of a sibling in all of her oblivious glory, the undeniable joy of their family no matter how old she became.

And then, there was Corrin; the integral link that bound them all together. She was Camilla’s precious victim of circumstance, Leo’s greatest source of understanding and discussion, and Elise’s most adored playmate. And though he spent very little time within the fortress she was always the first to welcome him with open arms, always eager to train with him and learn from him. In those years she had grown into a fine young woman, as beautiful as she was altruistic and adept. She was a quick learner and whatever she endeavored to accomplish she placed every measure of her heart into, whether it was swordplay, her studies, or her relationships with her family and caretakers. Though she did have a penchant for trusting strangers a bit more than was advisable, the trait had won her many friends and a noteworthy amount of support from others. So he simply settled for being her active suspicion for the time being, reminding those who would take advantage of her optimistic nature with a single look or private discussion what befell those who tried.

He loved her to no end, as much as his siblings did and perhaps even more than that. He wasn’t sure what it was, but the older they became the more he thought of the impending day of their separation. Each of them would have to grow up and follow their own path, but the very thought of coming home without the sight of her smiling face, always elated to see him if not a tad put out that he was gone so long, was unthinkable. To never see that patient, discerning expression that made his tension unfurl and his shoulders fall, no matter how little he said about his concerns or the things he had to do. It was as if she knew, and he had no doubt she did, how much he struggled and how much he loved them all, no matter how reticent he remained. She never once questioned his motives or his silence, never once doubted his dedication or intentions. Whenever his siblings misunderstood him he always sought to clarify and reassure them that their doubts were unfounded, much as it hurt him; he didn’t want them to feel as though he didn’t care. But with Corrin that was never an issue, there was never a need for explanations.

He couldn’t imagine a life without her steadying presence, like the inextricable link between the unwavering harbor and the tumultuous sea. Perhaps it was despicable to feel deeper things for her, but after so many years spent alone he was reluctant to lose the only person that didn’t make him feel that way. That accepted him for all that he was, and loved him no less for it. He hadn’t intended to let his feelings evolve in such a wayward direction, his heart decided before he could remotely stop it. So he did the appropriate thing in such a situation, that which did her the proper respect; he buried those feelings and made sure that every single encounter and interaction between them was platonic. He was still more than happy to spend time with her from that point on, but he never pushed the notion. He had no right to influence her decision regarding what she wished to do with her life or with whom she decided to spend it. As long as she wished him by her side, he would remain.

And it was enough. 

Among his favorite memories despite the newfound weight of his feelings were the days he had returned to the fortress and it had been snowing. The little sprite’s penchant for mischief was most prominent on those days, hiding near the entrance of the fortress with a snowball in hand ready to strike the moment he arrived. He would always make sure to feign caution when he approached the doors despite the fact that he invariably spotted Corrin before she advanced, letting her attack so that he could justify his subsequent chase for retaliation. On that particular afternoon, however, she was nowhere to be found. No number of covert glances and discreet searching revealed her. He wondered, with a small measure of infantile disappointment, if she had been otherwise occupied and unable to indulge in their habit. His armored hand had been reaching out for the door handle in defeat when he felt the familiar crunch of packed snow hit him square on the top of his head, icy water soaking his hair and slush flowing down his circlet to chill his shocked features. He looked up to find her hiding in the alcove above the entry, her form previously hidden by the protruding railing.

“Oh you’ll pay for that one, little princess.” He threatened as he reached down to pack snow in his hand, forming a snowball of his own and throwing it as she darted out of the way just in the nick of time.

“Only if you manage to hit me!” She stuck her tongue out at him. She then leapt from her place and rolled into the safety of the downy blanket of white powder ten feet west of his position, shaking the snowflakes clinging to her hair with delighted laughter. They only paused to grin at each other before the chase began, clumps of snow flying and breathless chuckles filling the air.

“Missed me!” She taunted repeatedly, running across to the west end where the forest encroached on the grounds of the fortress.

“Not for long!” Would be his stalwart reply as each step brought him closer to her position, undeterred by the surrounding foliage.

A minute later she looked back to smirk at him, despite his growing advantage, and directed her voice to the trees. “Ready... aim... fire!” She shouted as she veered back sharply, passing him with a wink before he was bombarded by a slew of snowballs. The force and sheer quantity of projectiles that met his unsuspecting form was enough to make him fall over, sinking heavily into the snow and kicking up a flurry in his wake. A smug Camilla and a grinning Elise emerged from the underbrush, flushing in the cold triumphantly over his fallen form.

“Surprise, Xander.” Camilla drawled.

“You should have seen your face, big brother!” Elise enthused. “Corrin’s a genius!” 

“Well done, snowball soldiers!” Corrin chortled from afar, trying to put some distance between them before Xander rose from his position and recruited Camilla and Elise in his quest for revenge. She looped back to the front doors, only to find a deadpan Leo prying them open and seating himself on the steps, engrossed in a book.

“Ugh, what is all the ruckus?” He complained, but the infinitesimal, telltale curve of his lips concealed by the object of his interest indicated he felt otherwise. He was just as aware of their little ritual as Camilla and Elise were, and equally amused by the practice.

So she took the opportunity to tease him, as any good, self-respecting big sister would. She snuck up behind him and stuffed snow down his collar, sprinting away at record speed as he cried out in shock.

“Nice try, little brother!” She yelled out behind her as she looked for a place to hide from his subsequent wrath. She was just lucky he didn’t have any Fimbulvetr tomes handy. 

“You are so dead, Corrin!” Was the hiss that followed her retreat, no hint of malice in his vindictive grin as he snapped the book shut. 

In a matter of minutes Corrin became the resident outlaw, the four of them splitting up to search the fortress grounds for her. But she could have been a snowflake among the thousands falling for all the luck they had finding her, converging over and over with nothing to show for each attempt. That was, until Xander remembered Corrin’s favorite little clearing, a little ways north of the fortress. It was a place she often visited to think. Once, not long after she had been kidnapped by father, she had had the entire fortress in a tizzy when her attendants were unable to find her all day long. Xander had been the first to search for her with or without his father’s orders the moment he had been informed, unable to bear the possibility of her cold and alone, guided by the sharpness of a blade at her back. Or worse yet, that she had been reclaimed by her former family despite their initial failed attempt, lost to them indefinitely. After searching the immediate vicinity of the fortress, assuming that she couldn’t have gotten far on foot if she had left of her own volition, he found her in mere minutes much to his staggering relief. She had been seated here in the clearing, under the bluebell sky in a field of swaying wildflowers. And sure enough there she sat now with her back to him as before, shifting the snow instead of flower petals absently between her fingertips, as if remembering the promise she had made too. Moving as stealthily as he was able, he approached her unsuspecting form and tackled her into the snow, an eruption of white powder and euphoric giggling following the arms that trapped her in place.

“Checkmate, little princess.” He grinned exultantly from above her, tucking wayward strands of hair behind her ear before rising and offering a hand to help her up. She took it and dusted the snow off, her scorching eyes gazing intently at his face as she did so. When he lifted a brow in silent question, she simply shook her head with a tender curve of her lips, following along the path beside him as they began to walk back.

“It’s nothing,” She murmured kindly, pausing as she considered whether or not she should continue. “It’s just nice to see you enjoy yourself so much.” She remarked, voice as soft as the falling snow around them as her left hand tentatively found his fingers and squeezed them with her frigid ones. He resisted the urge to reach out and intertwine them, cursing the absurd feeling of loss that accompanied him the moment she pulled her hand away.

When they emerged from the clearing, mayhem ensued as the three waiting attacked and all five of them started to throw snowballs indiscriminately, no conceivable notion of a primary target any longer as laughter and outraged sputtering permeated the grounds. Their fervor only diminished when they grew too cold to remain outside, returning to the fortress with numb fingers and flushed faces for hot chocolate and humorous recollections of that afternoon spent in the snow at the dining table.

Xander himself spent the evening with them before he returned to his office, wrapping up some loose ends that had gone forgotten in all the chaos. When he finished he stared at the flame of the candle flickering lethargically above the completed paperwork and thought of a bright pair of eyes, equally luminous, telling him that happiness suited him. Revealing that she worried about him, often. Warmth bloomed in his chest at the thought of her worrying about him, at her deliberate efforts to bring him joy. The more he hid the fact that he felt so deeply, the more others believed he didn’t feel at all. Corrin was the only one who seemed to know better. He smiled at the thought, leaving the candle to burn through what little wax was left in the safety of the candleholder, unwilling to extinguish it before retiring for bed that night. 

Concealing his feelings those last two years before the war began had been exceedingly difficult, especially when she cared for him so deeply and uttered such meaningful things. Things that made him want to engulf her within his embrace beside a crackling fire and hold her close, conversing in muted murmurs about things both trivial and profound. Things that made him want to reach out and lace their fingers together, the warmth of her palm against his own as he lifted their intertwined hands to press his lips to the delicate expanse of her wrist. Things that made him want to gather her into his arms, regardless of the consequences, and kiss her until he lost himself in her, until neither of them could remember their own names.

His only true lapse of control had occurred during a ball shortly before her abduction by Hoshido, one initiated by father for the sole purpose of placing Corrin on display for marriage as he had done to Camilla many times before. The entire premise of exhibiting an individual for the sake of allowing someone to stake a claim was appalling enough, but the fact that it was Corrin only seemed to irritate him further. As if simply anybody deserved the privilege of watching over her for the rest of her days, cherishing her proximity, and loving every little facet that made her the charming person she was. Despite several attempts to put a stop to the occasion and future events like it all together, he was met with father’s rigid and boundless opposition.

“Exotic, perhaps she would be worth the pursuit.” Smirked a nobleman from the west kingdoms.

“She does appear stunning, but who’s to say she hasn’t been taken already?” Replied a dubious man from a neighboring land.

“Not sure if she’s worth it, she’s not a true royal and the king can barely stand her as it is.” His wife scoffed.

“I’ve heard she hates wearing shoes, the barbarian.” Hissed a competitive, haughty young lady.

“I’ve heard--” 

The whispers plagued him as he forcibly fraternized with their guests; responding to requests for his company, dancing with eager partners for whom he felt little, and throwing an occasional glare at the perpetrators of such filth to engender their prompt silence. That was, until the time came for Corrin to enter the festivities and he took father’s place as her escort, moving to the bottom of the grand staircase that lead to the ballroom. He crossed his arms behind his back and stood tall, the very image of patience and chivalry as he waited for her to emerge.

He always abhorred such superfluous occasions, in which everybody tried so hard to be that which they were not and showered him with empty praise in the hopes that they would win his favor. His discomfort would rise with every elaborate compliment, every shameless encouragement to marry a young lady he did not know. He hated when living as a royal meant everything became a power play, that everybody assumed he preferred an esteemed, attractive bauble to an earnestly loving partner. These events made him weary, made him want to seek out the productive silence of his office or the smooth strike of his blade against dull wood if not better company. Whatever it took to escape their leering gazes and onerous expectations.

Losing himself to his thoughts while he was no longer obligated to speak, he hadn’t realized Corrin was entering the room until a sudden hush fell upon the crowd, all eyes converging on the stairway. He too turned to look up at the banister where she now stood, Camilla following close behind as Corrin paused at the top to smile in greeting. 

He nearly swallowed his own tongue at the sight of her.

She descended the steps with graceful, measured clicks of the heels Flora and Felicia likely wrestled upon her feet minutes before she emerged, silver stained leather shining in the abundant lighting of the room. She was dressed in a violet gown the color of the midnight sky, satiny rivulets of wine that coated her body and pooled at her feet as if she commanded each drop with a single thought. The silk descended to cover a single pale leg and left the right one tantalizingly bare, obscured only by gossamer fabric dotted with gemstones. It was secured in place by a diamond pin showcasing the Nohrian crest just beneath her bust, leading up to a black lace weave that concealed the low neckline and left her left shoulder exposed. The dark hues accented the creamy pallor of her skin and white hair, her scarlet eyes and pale lips highlighted by the sheer contrast.

In short, she was breathtaking.

By the time she reached the bottom with a final, reverberating clack of her shoes she had turned a complimentary shade of pink, an exquisite flush suffusing her cheeks and the adorable tips of her ears as he extended his hand. With a radiant smile she took it, entwining her elbow with his as he led her to the dancefloor. Her other hand squeezed the width of his upper arm, betraying her trepidation despite her amiably neutral expression.

“I’m so nervous, Xander. I hope I can do this.” She muttered, worrying her bottom lip. Entranced as he was, he noticed it was fuller than its counterpart before he was able to regain his focus.

“Nonsense, you most certainly can. I have the utmost faith in your abilities.” He reassured with a consoling pat on her hand. “You look absolutely stunning tonight, little princess.” _As always,_ he refrained from adding.

Her blush deepened, but her eyes sparkled like rubies at the sentiment. She squeezed his arm a second time in thanks before they reached the polished wood of the dance floor, all couples previously situated there pausing and making room for the regal pair. After a practiced bow and curtsy, Xander reached for her hand and the small of her back just as her hand graced the top of his arm and laced their fingers together. He gazed at her, waiting for any indication that she was ready once the music began and only started moving the moment she inclined her head in his direction. Without delay their reciprocated steps were practiced and smooth, _familiar._ They were attuned to each other, shifting positions and accommodating with ease, a mindless harmony. It wasn’t long before he lost himself to the safety of her presence, the fact that she sought nothing but the apparent pleasure that was his company. 

Strands of hair that had escaped the neat bun atop her head framed her face and brushed his hand at her back, as sleek as woven spider silk as he resisted the urge to group them together and tuck them behind a pointed ear. They carried her usual scent of honey and jasmine, sweet and savory as it blanketed his senses with her proximity and soothed his racing thoughts, lulling them into a rare contented serenity. Her limbs were relaxed against his, their exchanged contact easy and comfortable as the tune progressed and they inadvertently drew each other closer. She had yet to cease smiling, her enthusiasm growing each time their eyes met or he initiated an admittedly indulgent twirl. Her demeanor was contagious; he soon found himself smiling a small smile in return and enjoying himself for the first time that evening.

When the song ended, it had felt as though their time together had been all too short, other men swarming the floor to win her hand for a dance. Stifling the forlorn expression that threatened to surface, he disentangled himself gently and took a step back as they exchanged a bow and curtsy once more, his subtle nod as soon as he rose to depart indicating that she should now humor her suitors. Without a glance behind him he returned to his seat beside father and his advisors, listening and partaking in conversation as the celebration officially began. On occasion, his eyes would stray back to Corrin’s unmistakeable form, quick verifications that she was safe and cheerful as ever regardless of his absence.

That was, until the prince of the neighboring kingdom of Nestra thought it wise to pursue her. The man was known for his flings and flights of fancy, a fickle fellow who was more concerned with his next female conquest than the fate of his own land. He had broken many a heart and ruined a number of lives with his carelessness, no shortage of gossip and tittering following in his wake everywhere he went. Xander still remembered the shock that had lanced through him when he had looked up to see Prince Nester approaching Corrin. One moment she had been dancing with a kind earl of Windmire, the next that cad was kissing the top of her hand with his request to dance. He guided her to the floor with a pompous grin, every stride infused with increasing predatory intent as he no doubt showered her with compliments, considering the rate at which his mouth was moving. Corrin, though maintaining her composure, seemed unsettled by his behavior as they began to trade fumbling steps together, following his overt lead with reluctance. Unable to look away, Xander watched as her smile began to wobble, her discomfort visible as she tried to back away each time the prince closed the distance between them. He gritted his teeth at the sight of Prince Nester haphazardly overstepping his boundaries, his hands balling into fists beneath the table as fury and disgust surged through him.

But he forced himself to take a low breath and uncurl his fingers, remembering that Corrin could chase that scoundrel away herself if she so desired. That it wasn’t any of his business who wanted his sister’s hand, no matter how crude. He had no right or ability to interfere if her safety was not immediately threatened, not without both of them suffering father’s answering wrath. And he wasn’t sure how many suicide missions he could watch father dole out to Corrin to punish them both before he questioned the state of his own sanity. At the very least, he could take pleasure in the fact that Corrin had not seemed intrigued in the slightest regarding any of her suitors all night, least of all the prince before her now.

Until the dastard had let his arm at the small of her back wander, edging towards the swell of her derrière and showing no signs of stopping.

He was on his feet before he could stop himself, sliding his chair back with an elegant shove as he controlled the latter part of his visceral reaction. “My apologies to all, father. Please, excuse me.”

After father granted a shrewd nod as his leave, it took every ounce of the discipline Xander had amassed over years of relentless training to remain calm. He kept his gait slow and measured as he neared their position, the song ending shortly after he had arrived at the outskirts of the polished mahogany. He wouldn’t give the cur a chance to implore her for a second dance. Corrin brightened noticeably when she took in his advance, and to ascertain that he would not say something to shame father he directed his words to her despite the fact that he had interrupted an esteemed guest’s speech.

“We meet again, little princess. Care for another dance?” He asked, extending a hand in total disregard for her previous partner, offering his protection if she wanted it. He would have been lying if he said a small part of him did not wish to dance with her again for her exquisite company.

“Of course,” The tightness of her mouth eased, her easy smile returning as the tension in her stance dissipated. “I would love to.” She replied as she reached out to accept his proposition.

The prince gawked at the exchange before he regained his sense of entitlement, burning an angry red at being ignored. “Why I never! See here, I don’t care _who_ you are, she--”

He stopped dead in his tracks and blanched at the glower Xander directed at him, hardened corundum eyes ready to grind him to dust if need be. “Prince Nester, what a pleasant surprise. You were just leaving.” It wasn’t a question, his voice equal measures stern and courteous.

Flummoxed, but powerless in foreign territory, the prince retreated with a huff, muttering something along the lines of, “Not worth the trouble.”

Studiously ignoring the poor excuse of a royal, Xander returned his full attention to the belle of the ball as soon as Prince Nester exited his line of sight. His severe expression fell as he took in her fading grimace, unable to care about retaliation at the sight of her discomfort.

“Are you all right, little princess? His behavior was inexcusable,” He couldn’t help the slight anger that still colored his tone, every muscle still tensed to strike.

“I’m okay,” she assured. “I was going to chase him off as soon as possible after that first dance, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought as he tried and failed to not find her expression endearing. “I hope he doesn’t do that to another girl here, maybe I should have humored him for at least another dance...” She looked at the surrounding women dancing around the room with abrupt concern.

He didn’t know whether he wanted to chastise her for not being more worried about her own safety or enchanted by how naturally she cared for others. He settled for both. “I’ll be sure to have him escorted out of the celebration as soon as possible. But please remember to take care of yourself as well, little princess. Some people are not so easily swayed by what is fair and right.” He frowned down at her.

She frowned right back at him, more serious than he had ever seen her, standing still as the song ended. “Fear isn’t going to stop me from being myself or doing what is right by others, Xander, no matter the magnitude of the decision or the risk to my own safety.” She stepped back to prepare for the next dance, another suitor already hovering on the sidelines. “Thanks for the save though, big brother. I appreciate it.” She pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before backing away, the spot aflame as if she had branded him.

He gazed ruefully at her retreating form as he too returned to his seat beside father to speak with him and the captain of the guard regarding Prince Nester. Her idealism was to be admired, but part of him had to wonder what she would do when faced with a world that was not fair or just or right. What she would do when she was stripped of the option to choose the correct path. What her choice would be if the people she loved were at forfeit.

In two years time he would learn what a fool he had been to have underestimated her when she stood on the battlefield, trapped by two warring nations as they demanded she pick a side. She was to decide between the family of her birth or the people she had known and loved all her life, the ultimate ultimatum. She stood at the focal point of the skirmish as the beseeching eyes of her siblings pinned her in place, some pleading and some ready to condemn, but each one forcing her to make a decision.

Xander remembered how frantic he had been to find her that day, following father’s orders to retrieve her but invading Hoshido for his own sake, his duty lost to him in those hours of fruitless searching. He had been blinded by the need to find Corrin and return her to the safety of their home, all that had mattered was ascertaining she would be by his side once again. He had felt like a fool when they returned to the empty site of her capture and left to search the Hoshidan royal city; he cursed his own overconfidence for allowing Hans to lead her so close to enemy territory and taking his eyes away from her position to lead their subsequent retreat. When Corrin, Jakob, and Gunter all failed to arrive back at the fortress within the hour he had feared the worst. 

Yet there she had stood, looking ragged and weary but very much alive. Her armored outfit was tattered and ripped and her hair was disheveled, but she was flushed pink with life and standing tall before them as she regarded her choice. He almost wanted to laugh at the bittersweet irony. The sight of her alive and well had finally allowed him to regain the capability to breathe for the first time in the last twenty four hours, whilst their current dilemma made his heart clench with renewed, breathless fear. What if she did not choose Nohr?

_Nonsense,_ his conscious argued, _what you’re truly afraid of is that she won’t choose_ you.

His musings fell to a standstill as Ryoma called out in the tense silence. “Don’t be fooled by their words, you belong with your true family in Hoshido!” She had already been snatched from her home once, Ryoma wasn’t going to lose her again. Not after his promise to Mikoto, not after their family finally felt complete for the first time in so long.

Xander’s answering words were raw as he retaliated against the flimsy claim, reminding her of the years of shared, unconditional love. “We have loved you and raised you since you were a child. Come home, little princess. We can live as a family once more!” He promised. Could all the years they had spent together really amount to nothing in her eyes? Could she truly disregard every moment he had treasured between them?

The crown princes, eyeing each other with unconcealed distaste and underlying trepidation, continued their supplications.

“Come home to Hoshido, Corrin!”

“No Corrin! Nohr is your home!”

“This way!” Ryoma insisted, extending his hand for her to take. 

“B-big sister?” Asked Sakura, afraid to lose the new sister she had already come to love. Corrin had been the only person to understand Sakura’s desire for peace regardless of whether the conflict was national, personal, or both. She just wanted everyone alive and content.

“She’s _my_ sister!” Elise corrected petulantly, as if saying it out loud would make it exclusively so.

“We’re your family.” Xander, though stoic and adamant, said the words with a tender finality, as if they were an immutable truth unable to be rewritten. A truth unable to be ignored as he too offered his hand.

And she agreed with him. Corrin knew, and had always felt, that her true family was the people she knew since the time she could remember. The people that had remained by her side without wavering and loved her regardless of her origin. It had been among the many reasons, other than her lack of knowledge, that had kept her from seeking out her birth family. Camilla, Leo, Elise, and Xander especially...she owed them so much more than words or promises could convey. Even so, her heart broke as she knew what her decision had to be, the only decision that would yield a peaceful future for all of her siblings. Because as much as she belonged in Nohr, she could not turn her back on her birth family and mother after all King Garon had done. Because the people of Hoshido had had every intention of raising her with all the love she had received from her Nohrian siblings.

“Enough!” She called out, unable to take any more of their bickering. All of their eyes landed on her tense form as her hands balled into fists with the weight of their expectant gazes. “I have made my decision. 

She paused, wondering if she was truly strong enough to follow her intuition instead of her heart. She looked to Xander briefly, taking in his features and the burgeoning hope that dwelled in them one final time to last her however long it would take to win back his trust. To last her every single lonely night that was sure to come when she opened her mouth again.

“I refuse to choose a side. I will not betray either of you.”

The quiet words had been like a death sentence, silence enveloping the valley before disaster erupted.

Xander, unable to accept her indecision, was the first to object. As much as he appreciated her desire to save her Hoshidan brethren, he could not condone the consequences of such a decision. There had to be another way, one that did not consist of losing Corrin. “I’ve heard enough!” Gone was the heartfelt compulsion, steely resolve taking it’s place with a scowl. “Corrin I can see what you’re trying to accomplish here.” He began with a compassionate shake of his head. “As your older brother, however, it is my duty to teach you the truth--”

“Not while I stand!” Ryoma interjected. “Corrin is finally back with her family--I will not let you take her again!” He would die before he went through the crippling dishonor and anguish of losing her to Nohr once again.

This is exactly what Corrin had been trying to avoid! She shouted again, her voice equal parts reprimand and plea. “No, wait! Xander! Ryoma!”

Xander knew she would not be swayed from her chosen stance. But if she would not return, then he would eliminate all reason for her to be conflicted about her choice. Perhaps she felt she owed the people of Hoshido her life, but he was resigned to the fact that he owed them absolutely _nothing,_ especially not another loved one. He would do what was necessary to keep his family intact, not unlike a miser clinging desperately to his final coin. The pampered prince of Hoshido would regret taking her for the rest of his days, if any remained when Xander was finished. “Don’t think for a moment that I will let you take Corrin without a fight. It seems only right to cross swords with my opposing equal. As the heirs of our respective families, why don’t we settle this here and now?”

Ryoma’s answering smirk spoke of an arrogance generated by years of effortless success. “Prepare yourself, then. I will defeat you in defense of my kingdom and my sister!”

“Please, both of you, stop! Can’t we at least discuss this--”

Corrin’s pleas were lost to them as they charged heedlessly, blades singing with each strike as conviction blazed with equal fervency in their eyes. They were beyond reason, and her efforts to reclaim their undivided attention resulted in the assumption that she was attacking both sides indiscriminately. The battle escalated with their answering belligerence and anguish, betrayal emanating from their poised forms as they looked to her with reproach. The way Ryoma declared her a public enemy with a disapproving shake of his head stung, as if he had wanted to believe that she would stay but should have known better than to hope. However it was Xander’s indifference as he did the same that was truly shattering, every word worse than a thousand slices of a sword as he wielded her perceived treachery like a weapon. All of her attempts at speech went unheard with their opposing sentiments and the necessity to place their nation’s well-being above their personal loyalties. She had suspected her desire for peace would be an impossible feat, but she never anticipated the sheer pain it would provoke for every person present.

She looked to the Yato in her hand, suddenly dubious. How could she ever engender peace when all she seemed to do was herald disaster?

Jakob was at her side in an instant, a dagger raised in defense as he guided her behind him. “Come, my Lady. If we are to live, we must flee.” He urged, both sides approaching their position with deadly intent.

“Nothing you say now will reach either of them. We need to retreat for now, we can’t be caught.” Azura echoed, taking Corrin’s hand and leading her distraught form away as Jakob fought anything that could remotely deter their escape.

The last thing Xander saw was Corrin’s face lined with crystalline tears, staring at the Yato as he matched Prince Ryoma strike for strike, trying to pinpoint a weakness in his technique before she could disappear without a trace. He knew her remarkable penchant for hiding, often in plain sight, and had no desire to test her considerable skill. But when he managed to glance back at where she had been standing moments later she was gone, no trace of her left as gunpowder and battle cries filled the air. Without her present he saw no further reason to fight, he had already fulfilled father’s commands and proven his loyalty. Redirecting Ryoma’s attention to his struggling siblings by feinting in their direction, Xander initiated a tactical retreat and led his remaining troops to safety while the opposing crown prince sought to protect his kin. Without a word, the four Nohrian siblings gathered close as they trudged back to the fortress, weary and bloodied. A heavy silence draped their journey, laden with shock and despair.

They had lost a sister in the space of a few hours, something they would have previously deemed impossible.

Each of them in that first month of Corrin’s absence had been inconsolable. Leo did not leave the library for the rest of those days, drowning his woes and loneliness in the company of the written word. Camilla would not emerge from her bedroom, and every time somebody _did_ manage to spot her leaving for short durations she looked ten years older and wracked with worry. Elise for the first time in her entire life fell quiet, and drifted with a heavy heart to the gardens to create flower crowns she was no longer able to share. As if the mere activity alone could bring Corrin back, laughing and intertwining stems alongside her.

Xander wished he could admit that he had done much better and provided solace to each of them as was his responsibility as the eldest sibling, but he too had been lost in his own misery. For once, enacting his duty and following orders had not been enough to maintain his resolve. Instead each day devolved into a meaningless cycle of repetition, as though life had been drained of all color. Nobody stole his circlet to prompt a chase, nobody threw snowballs at him, and nobody asked for help with their training, eyes alight with excitement. Instead he went to meetings, engaged in constant battle as tensions with Hoshido escalated, completed his paperwork on time, and trained alone until sunrise as was expected of him.

Every bland moment felt like a farce, like a pathetic attempt to emulate living. As if the mundane tasks could erase the vile things he had said to her or force the image of her broken expression, indelible in his mind’s eye, to fade. Whether awake or asleep his thoughts were consumed by every conceivable ill that might have befallen her as she dwelled in hiding. He often found himself distracted throughout the day, wondering if she was alive and well wherever she was. If she had found happiness or remained despondent on her chosen path, if she had known how much he had ached to brush away her tears and quell her fears on that fateful afternoon. If she was aware that he would have followed her to the other end of the realm and back in a heartbeat if he had had the choice.

His usual method of engulfing himself in his work did not make her absence any less conspicuous or easier to bear, either. Now as soon as evening fell, he avoided the ballroom at all costs on the way to his office, sought any national or military obligation that would exempt him from festivals and balls. Everything seemed to remind him of her no matter how hard he focused on the task at hand; whether it was the fragrant jasmine growing in the gardens near his office window, the dusting of snow that lingered from the last storm a lifetime ago, or the scarlet of the sunset as he led his troops back to the fortress.

He had once thought father’s indiscretion and the corruption rampant within Nohr would be among the most arduous anomalies he would have to reconcile. The trying, lonely month in which she was gone proved his conception of hardship laughable.

Other than lauding his steadfast dedication to the nation and sullying her name as a traitor, little was said regarding the adopted princess of Nohr with a bounty on her head. And he dared not reveal the unfathomable depths of his regret and melancholy. He was wary of the eager vultures at father’s side, namely Iago and Hans, and unwilling to haphazardly betray his homeland. He often found himself trying to formulate a plan as he stared with growing disinterest at the official statements in his hands, taking no care to keep his fingers from uncharacteristically creasing the documents as he deliberated with a restless fervor. He wracked his exhausted mind for solutions as the sentences tapered on without end, his preoccupied thoughts and jadedness inhibiting what would have been a simple task. There had to be a way to resolve this burgeoning mess before his entire family fell apart at the seams.

A knock sounded at the door, jarring him from his thoughts. He straightened his posture and lowered the page before him, resisting the urge to send the person away. As if he needed another calamity to worry about these days. “Enter.”

Laslow opened the door and closed it behind him, his solemn face and succinct report indicating that whatever he had to say was nothing Xander would have liked to hear. “Lord Xander,” He gave a customary bow. “I apologize for the intrusion, but I am here to inform you that Lady Camilla’s battalion was decimated by Corrin’s army at the Frozen Sea. It has also been reported that Lady Camilla and her retainers were seen exiting the battle at Corrin’s side, likely her newest recruits. There is still no word on where it is that her army is stationed despite our latest efforts.”

Of course. “Thank you for your prompt report, Laslow. You may take your leave.” He dismissed with a nod of appreciation, and Laslow departed with a forced smile as he retreated and left Xander to his thoughts. Laslow was rarely so dejected and serious, he wondered vaguely if it had something to do with Selena’s joining Corrin and Camilla. He always found it interesting that a man who so easily distributed affection was reticent when it came to those he cared for deeply. He made a mental note to check on the poor philanderer later, Xander certainly understood how he was feeling.

Regardless, the moment the door closed Xander leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his face, kneading his sleep-deprived eyes and throbbing temples as he stared at the discarded circlet on the desk. He wasn’t surprised regarding Camilla’s decision, he suspected it had been her intention all along. And if anything it was a wise move on her part as father would not dismiss her failure, especially against a traitor. The notion should have given him peace of mind; he knew Camilla would protect and watch over Corrin without fail in his absence. Instead he found himself wondering how he was going to explain to Elise and Leo. Or how long it would be until they decided to leave Nohr to fight with Corrin as well, leaving him to fulfill his fated duty as crown prince alone. As much as he knew it was only a matter of time and entirely their decision, it didn’t hurt any less to be left behind. Was he the only one that felt the slightest responsibility to the unity of their family? Most of all, to father?

But then, they had not known the father he had known and loved, felt no responsibility to his care. The one who was stern yet gracious, who could tell stories of past kings for hours on end as Xander sat enraptured across his knees as a boy. Who had gifted him with the artfully crafted accessory as a reminder of both his status and that which was considered the Nohrian way: _one must be cruel to be kind._ The true father he had been trying to resurrect for nearly two entire decades.

And what of their nation? If Nohr fell apart, the smaller factions within the greater whole would be at war as they once were, frequently engaging in battle over petty border disputes and who held presiding power. Hundreds would die over mere power struggles, lives that could be spared so long as he remained steadfast. His duty was exceedingly clear, yet he was still utterly torn between that which needed to be done and that which he needed. Until a thought occurred to him.

What if he could find a way to serve both?

The aftermath of the battle of Cyrkensia would prove to be the perfect answer to his query. Henceforth nothing would ever be as he had once thought it. Obligated to incite conflict at the sight of Hoshido’s senseless destruction of neutral territory and unable to shake the lingering distaste from their previous encounter, Xander had gone on the offensive immediately. As both forces fought at opposing ends of the square, Corrin eventually appeared at the southern pier beseeching them to halt their violence, suggesting they redirect their efforts into stopping the actual perpetrator of the afternoon’s carnage. He and Prince Ryoma elected to ignore her after she specified that the enemy was invisible, thinking it was another foolhardy attempt to advocate an impossible peace.

Determined to prove her outlandish claims, she and her trained followers worked around them to attack their targets with supreme skill and ingenious tactical prowess. Though his glances were fleeting, each second granted more than enough evidence that Corrin’s army had become a force with which to be reckoned as they systematically removed the strange, invisible beings bringing the city to ruin. Corrin _herself_ was the image of a superb leader. She fought alongside her comrades and ensured that any command or suggestion she made was one that she wouldn’t hesitate to heed herself. She listened closely to what each person had to say, weaving in and out of enemy range with steady shifts of her position, always aware of her surroundings. Nobody was left behind and the team moved efficiently as two separate units to tackle both fronts, trusting her guidance implicitly and improvising as needed when circumstances changed.

It wasn’t long before the ragtag army converged at the center of the square as Corrin and Azura destroyed the leader of the battalion responsible for levelling Cyrkensia. He and Prince Ryoma watched in astonishment as Corrin unleashed brutal strikes, dodging and slicing what appeared to be thin air with relentless determination. They only knew it was over when Corrin sheathed the Yato once more and sighed, wiping the sweat from her brow with a forearm. Both princes appeared as though they wanted to approach her, however the eyes of Xander’s soldiers boring into his back reminded him of his place. He still had a part to play if he was to ascertain his life and hers following this uproar.

“This isn’t over! We’ll fight to the very last man!” He glowered, counting on the younger prince’s maturity to end the skirmish.

Prince Ryoma leered right back, calling his bluff. “You won’t see Hoshido waver! We’ll fight until there’s no one left!” Gods above, Xander was not sure what he had been expecting as he readied for the next onslaught.

“This is bad…” Azura sighed harshly, beyond sick of their empty-minded bickering. Her usual detached tone was sharp with vexation as she spoke to no one in particular. “Even with the real enemy defeated, those two are still at each other’s throats.”

Corrin felt no different, but that didn’t mean she would stop trying to get through to them. “Ryoma! Xander! Please, you both have to listen to me! We’ve defeated the real enemy--you don’t need to fight each other now!”

Xander’s hands twitched around Siegfried’s hilt at the sound of desperation in her voice, itching to answer her as the blade was swallowed by coiling dark magic in answer to his inner turmoil. _I know, little princess, it’s your precious blood brother who wants a fight. And Iago and Hans will not be satisfied without the assurance that there will be a bloodbath, or that there nearly was one._

Xander prepared to charge. “Whoever retreats now admits defeat! Nohr will never lose to Hoshido.”

“This war will continue until we take our last breath!” Prince Ryoma raised his Raijinto high in response.

“You can’t be serious! Xander! Ryoma!” Corrin shouted, seconds from sprinting to their position and intercepting both attacks, dual-wielding the Yato and her silver sword until Azura held out her arm, halting her advance. Corrin turned to demand Azura release her but paused at the sight of amber eyes falling shut, heralding the most mesmerizing voice in all the realm.

“You are the ocean’s gray waves...” The words resounded unnaturally in the surrounding air, her honeyed tone resonating in time with the beat of each person’s heart as her necklace began to levitate. Her flowing melodies weakened everyone’s hold on their respective weapons, as though every crooned line encircled and constricted their limbs like enchanted vines impervious to human intervention. Slowly, offending hands lowered one by one as the strength and will to fight was vanquished, the suffocating tension that had plagued the city for hours evaporating.

“Huh?...That song...” Corrin noticed the changes with awe, barely able to hold on to her own swords.

Xander gritted his teeth as his sword arm started to fall unbidden, Siegfried’s tumultuous aura receding to reveal the naked blade reflecting saffron rays of the setting sun. “Is this... some kind of spell?”

“It can’t be…” Prince Ryoma looked over his shoulder at them and noticed the water droplets hovering around Azura as she swayed with her song, incandescent as darkness encroached upon the horizon. “Azura?”

“Azura? What are you--” Corrin tried to ask, but was stopped short as another verse followed, more powerful than the last. She watched in stupefaction as the two princes who were out for blood seconds ago were sheathing their weapons and standing down.

Xander frowned at his apostate limbs as his tensed form was forced into indolence. “Ugh… gh...What is this feeling...”

Prince Ryoma echoed his sentiment, equally dismayed. “I feel...so relaxed...It’s like I’ve lost the will to fight...”

When Azura’s last note faded into silence she panted from the exertion, drained and swaying as she struggled to remain standing. Corrin sheathed her swords and reached for her, steadying Azura with an arm around her shoulders.

“Azura! Are you all right?!”

Azura lifted her head, smiling her reassurance until she could dredge up enough energy to speak. “...I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. My songs have a special power. It’s just…” She winced as her body convulsed, wracked with another wave of pain as retribution for overestimating her abilities. “It’s really exhausting to use one of them.” She explained.

Corrin frowned, unable to decide whether to be relieved or concerned. “You stopped them with that power?”

“Yes.” She affirmed. “I wanted to avoid having to do that, but it just couldn’t be helped.” She sighed. “Ryoma, Xander…” She winced again as another shudder rendered her unable to speak. “It wasn’t Nohr or Hoshido who destroyed this town. It was done by the invisible forces that we just defeated.” Invigorated once more, she stepped away from Corrin’s arm and raised her voice as she continued to address the rival armies, relying on her staff to remain upright. “Now that they are gone, I will not allow any more senseless violence. I will sing my song as many times as necessary to restore peace. Do you still insist on fighting?” Azura demanded of the princes.

“This calm feeling...I can barely lift my sword...” Was Ryoma’s dazed response, an inadvertent denial.

“I have to clear my head...” Xander grated with a harsh shake of his head, mortified that he had been so easily manipulated by mere words, fighting to regain control. 

“Xander, my brother!” Corrin approached his position unarmed and alone, despite Kaze’s request to accompany her. She didn’t want to give Xander another reason to exacerbate his distrust. “Come to the suspension bridge at the Bottomless Canyon! Come on the day the skies change above Hoshido and Nohr!”

_I honestly wish I could._ “That really isn’t a compelling reason to walk into what could be a Hoshidan trap.” He sneered, pointedly eyeing her troops.

“I’m sorry.” She said earnestly. “I wish I could say more, really. But you’ll understand when you get there. If you come there, I’ll be able to tell you the truth. I want us to fight on the same side…” The sudden, profound longing in her gaze nearly undid him. “to save the world together!”

He had no doubt she was telling him the truth, any uncertainty had been erased by her army’s efforts today. But the words seemed to tumble from his lips before he could stop them, the only response he could manage without destroying his carefully cultivated exterior. “You abandoned the family that raised you, Corrin.” _You abandoned me._ “I have no reason to trust you.” _Do you have any idea how much that hurt? Do you have any idea at all of how much I miss you?_

“Xander wait!” He didn’t stop, knowing every second he prolonged their conversation, the less inclined he would be to leave things as they were. “If you won’t join me, at least answer a question for me!”

_Anything._ “Tch. Speak quickly--you are trying my patience.” He said as he paused atop his horse, looking down to where she stood in the most condescending manner possible.

“We met with Archduke Izana. He said ‘Go meet the dragon.’” She explained. “Do you have any idea what he might have meant by that?”

If he were to reveal what he knew, the answer would be an obvious attempt to help her grow strong enough to defeat him one day. He knew she was close to it even as they spoke, her experience on the battlefield had been made abundantly clear today. He fixed his gaze on the Yato, both to help maintain his composure and grant a hint. _Go to the Rainbow Sage, little princess, that’s what it means. Prove yourself worthy of the Yato._ “Why would I tell a traitor like you anything of value?” He scoffed instead, turning and leaving before she could ask him further. 

“Xander...” She reached out a hand as if to stop him until Camilla placed an arm around her waist, holding her close as they watched the Nohrian army depart. Xander hadn’t been himself throughout the encounter, indicating that he was still subject to his father’s manipulation. But part of her was afraid she was assuming too much. What if she had hurt him beyond any measure of repair? Would he ever trust her again?

“It’ll be fine, Corrin.” Camilla cooed as soon as she noticed doubt encroach upon her sister’s lovely features. That wouldn’t do, especially when she knew that Corrin and Xander were meant for each other. The two had always been close growing up, complementing each other perfectly and always providing just what the other needed. The only disconcerting element of their relationship had been that neither of them seemed to realize the other felt the same way, choosing to suffer in silence instead of discussing the profundity of their feelings together. She knew that the evolution of such things was best left to time, but a tiny nudge in the right direction couldn’t hurt. Corrin needed to know that others shared her belief in him, that her hope was not in vain. “I’m sure he’ll come. Let’s believe in him too, okay?”

There was a short pause as Corrin stared at where Xander had been standing before she looked back to her sister’s confident smile with one of her own.

“Okay, Camilla I hope you’re right.” She conceded. _I’ll believe in him, as I always have._

After reaffirming their target with Ryoma and earning the young prince and Scarlet’s trust, the army set out to meet with the Rainbow Sage.

Xander, on the other hand, had much to consider and little time. Could he manage to meet Corrin at the Bottomless Canyon in two days? Would father ever allow such a thing, whether or not it was for the good of the nation? As he returned to the castle on horseback and dismounted, his mind was consumed with trying to think of some way to accompany her and maintain his loyalty as he strode inside.

“Ah...Welcome home, Lord Xander.” Iago greeted with flourish, bowing low. Xander had seen him at the end of the main hall and prepared accordingly, ready to remain stone-faced and unperturbed no matter what was said. The man was sickening and slimy, but he was also remarkably perceptive. He couldn’t reveal his newfound skepticism regarding father’s war, or the doubt that had rocked him at the sight of Corrin’s fatigue and the clear effort her soldiers had been exerting that evening. He may not have been able to see the enemy, but such an elaborate fabrication was impossible. There truly was a strange foe manipulating the strings, and she had been telling the truth the entire time, as unlikely as it had seemed at first.

“Hello, Iago.” He replied, all regal formality. “It’s a rare thing for you to greet me upon my return.” The observation was edged with dangerous curiosity, the kind that demanded a prompt explanation.

Iago maintained his composure at the subtle accusation despite the sweat gathering upon his upper lip. “Is it? My apologies for being so inconsiderate.” He hurried to correct his oversight. “Though I’m surprised you returned at all. I heard about what happened in Nestra. You failed to kill the traitor as our king demands...” He retaliated with equal heat.

Xander had to get away from the snake before he ground his molars to dust, his jaw clenched as he resisted the urge to incapacitate him, or at the very least ensure that he could never enter the country again. Every time Iago threatened Corrin’s life, and he did so frequently, every modicum of decorum Xander possessed seemed to fail him. He clenched his fists and gazed at his speculative expression with disinterest, willing himself to endure. Iago’s reckoning would come. “I have no time for this now. I need to report to Father.” He grated before he stalked away to the audience chamber, listening closely to the conversation that took place behind him.

“If I had to guess, I’d say that his encounter with Corrin shook his faith. Would you agree, Hans?” Iago’s voice was a low murmur, careful not to make the same mistake twice.

“That could be true of the others, but not Lord Xander.” The chamber shook with a bout of boisterous laughter, “He’s Nohrian to the bone. And he did turn down Corrin’s plea to join...” Hans reminded.

“And yet Princess Camilla joined in a heartbeat.” There was an acute chime as Iago’s head ornaments met with the repulsed shake of his head. “It’s disgusting how taken she is with Corrin. If we aren’t careful, we risk losing more of the royal children.” His voice became equal measures cruel and contemplative, the epiphany accompanied by a sly smile. “It would be wise to keep a closer eye on that merry, traitorous little army.”

Xander needed to remember to monitor the reprehensible duo’s movements these next few days, to establish safeguards against whatever it was Iago was plotting. When he was a few feet from the enormous audience chamber doors, Leo was waiting, looking equal parts glad and vigilant.

“Welcome back, Brother.” He greeted with a hearty pat to the back. “I wanted to speak with you about Father. He seems to have gotten worse...” Reluctance colored his speech as he looked to doors, as if he dreaded to breach the unavoidable subject. 

“Not another word, Leo.” He defended for the umpteenth time, already burdened with enough doubt. “Father is just under the weather--that’s all. You know how war can weigh on the body and spirit.” He argued. “Once we win, he’ll recover. I believe in him. I will continue to believe in him. That’s how I live my life.” He reminded with obstinate temerity.

“I understand what you’re saying,” Leo tried to reassure him, not intending to hurt his brother with his uncertainty. “but...I don’t know if you’ll feel the same after you see this.” He said as he opened the doors, revealing King Garon standing above his throne with his arms outstretched.

“What’s he--?” Xander tried to ask at the sight of father’s strained countenance, sweat gleaming on his face from afar, but was interrupted by punctuated laughter.

“Mwaha...hahaha...”

“Father?” Xander asked, seeking to gain his attention to no avail.

“The war... must continue. It must spread... Burn it all… Burn everything to the ground. Not even...ashes should remain.” Each phrase was punctuated by gasps, as if it were growing harder to breathe and speak with each passing moment. Or as if the words were being forced from his lips.

“Father! What’s wrong?!” Xander demanded, horrified by this acute change in demeanor. Sure father had been harsh before, but this was different. Now he seemed completely unhinged, beyond saving.

“Xander?” Fleeting recognition settled on his features before it was gone as quickly as it came. “Do not interrupt me! Ever! Listen and be silent!” He roared as he stared at the strange sculpture on the ceiling.

“Destroy Hoshido...Destroy Nohr!” He commanded indiscriminately.

“What!?” Xander protested before he could stop himself, bewildered.

“Both nations are completely useless to me...This entire world should be...reduced to nothing but dust!” Raucous laughter followed his raving, overtaking the attentive silence that had befallen the three men like dark tendrils reaching out to fill every corner of the spacious audience chamber. 

“Father...” This time, when Xander uttered the word, he knew it could no longer be attributed to the hopeless shell that stood before them. Unable to take anymore, Leo followed Xander’s lead as they left the strange being to his antics.

“Do you see what I mean now?” Leo began the moment they had exited the room. “It’s like he’s become a completely different person. Like…” He hesitated, as if he was still unsure but had no other reasonable explanation. “he’s being controlled by something.” 

Xander sighed, seeking Leo’s rationale despite the fact that he had come to a similar conclusion minutes ago. Something told him Leo had greater reason to believe it so, as he rarely revealed his thoughts unless he felt he had sufficient evidence to support them. “You really think he’s being controlled?”

“Yes. When I saw Corrin in Izumo, she said something that’s stuck with me. She claimed that there is a hidden enemy we should be fighting…” His words held a distracted quality, as if he was consumed by the memory as he went on. “And that Father is being manipulated and controlled by that enemy. I dismissed her words as the lies of a traitor. But, after seeing Father, I can’t stop wondering if she was telling the truth.” Xander couldn’t help but agree that Corrin’s consistency was undeniable as he listened. “Xander, I’m not certain we should be fighting the Hoshidan forces. Even if it means becoming enemies of Nohr...” Leo said heedlessly, absorbed in his musings.

“Enough of this foolishness!” Xander hissed, stopping him before Leo got himself killed for treason. What if somebody had heard him? “Listen. We are noble princes of Nohr--loyal sons of King Garon.” He reasoned. “No matter what...We cannot betray Father or this kingdom. Remember that.” He met Leo’s eyes pointedly.

Understanding dawned on Leo’s face as he realized what he had said in his pensive fervor. “I apologize for my words, Brother.”

“No need to apologize, so long as you understand.” Xander reassured graciously. “You and I must do all we can to protect Nohr.” He pulled Leo into a hug, muttering close to his ear as he did. “Corrin told me where and when to meet her. We need to be at the Bottomless Canyon on the day the skies change. We have until then to gather our most trusted soldiers.”

“What are you planning to do, Xander?” Leo breathed, absolutely lost as Xander pulled away. Bottomless Canyon? Corrin? Where was this coming from? Hadn’t Xander been fighting Hoshido in Nestra that afternoon?

“Come Leo, we have much to discuss.” Xander guided his brother from the main hall with an arm around his shoulder to a more private setting, aware of the eyes now fastened to his back. No matter, he wouldn’t be suffering their company much longer.

They would be ready to join the fray starting tomorrow, this time, at Corrin’s side where they belonged. However, the day the skies changed would prove to be considerably more eventful than either Corrin or Xander could anticipate.

“What’s this? More enemy reinforcements?! How many soldiers can there possibly be?” At some point any rational person had to wonder how they were being conjured at the dizzying sight of their numbers. “Things are looking bad...” Corrin confessed to a grim Azura standing tall beside her, wondering if she should provoke fate and ask if something else could go awry. But she thought better of it, remembering that she had a responsibility to maintain her army’s morale regardless of any internal doubt. Her soldiers may not have been particularly wounded, but they were fatigued and vastly outnumbered, a state that could lead to peril without proper conservation of their energy. She forced herself to take a deep breath and trust in their collective abilities, there was no room for fear on the battlefield. She still remembered how Xander’s tone had hardened during their practice sessions when he had seen her grow uneasy with his sudden change in tactics, forcing her to think on her feet and eliminating the comfort of his preliminary predictability. “Panic is more deadly than any enemy, little princess, robbing one of vital reason and awareness. In times such as these, always be sure to focus on your objective and the most efficient methods available to you above all else. If you are to lead one day, adversity must become commonplace.”

And then, on the other side of the glade to their left, she heard it. His strong voice echoing across the field, as powerful and unyielding as the man to which it belonged.

“Don’t worry, Corrin.” The distant words were accompanied by the familiar sound of galloping hooves crashing across the parched forest. “We’ll get you through this.” She wondered briefly if a mage had struck her unsuspecting form with a disillusionment spell of some sort as she stared open-mouthed at the trees that were impersonating Xander. Was it a result of exhaustion perhaps?

“Jeez, you really can’t get anything done without help, can you?” Came Leo’s trademark taunting, a familiar chuckle riding the air.

She paused as she fell into a defensive crouch behind the Yato, assisting Kaze as he attacked the enemy before her. “What? Wait a minute, I know those voices. Could it really be...” She muttered before forcing herself to focus. No, my troops need me and there was no guarantee her brothers were coming. But then, if it was an illusion, why was Leo present as well? When the target was defeated, Kaze looked to her distant expression curiously as her brothers continued to call over the thicket of trees, trying to reach her.

“It looks like we arrived just in time.” Relief and triumph suffused the rich baritone she had missed more than anything in this world, her lips curling and shoulders falling at the sound alone. Could she dare to hope?

“You must have the devil’s luck, Corrin.” She could hear Leo’s mischievous grin from afar. Gods, she didn’t think there were words to encompass how much she wanted to grab him and ruffle his hair for being obnoxious as she once had.

She sheathed her sword and ran as close as possible to the glade, telling her troops to amass together in a defensive maneuver as they watched on with varying levels of interest and carefully crafted indifference. She cupped her hands around her mouth as she finally reciprocated their attempts. “Xander! Leo!”

“We fight together, Corrin.” Xander assured at the sound of her breathlessness. “I’m sorry it took us this long to join you...” Veritable regret saturated his tone, but at the same time she wondered what had brought about such a drastic change. What of Nohr? What of their father? His life revolved around the constants that were his kingdom and surviving parent.

“Iago’s forces will prove no match for me. I’ll crush them in the blink of an eye. I’ve never liked his illusory magic…” Leo mused, boredom and absolute confidence transforming the normal cadence of his voice into a monotone. “It will be a pleasure to remove him permanently from the Nohrian army.” He finished darkly, the familiar sound of erupting flames curling and licking across his palms audible even from afar. A year younger or not, Leo had a remarkable protective instinct. Iago would not see the dawn of another day as a result of this ambush, of that she was certain. Though Corrin appreciated his sentiment, she was more preoccupied with what his claim suggested regarding Iago’s previous mocking, or lies, as it were.

“So, his forces didn’t come here on your orders…” A sigh of relief followed the thought immediately, fear that she would never be reunited on positive terms with her siblings finally unfurling its relentless grip on her heart. “But I still don’t get it. What made you change your mind?” She insisted, still trying to put together the pieces of this unexpected development. As enemy reinforcements began to edge toward them, Corrin knew answers would have to wait while all eyes awaited her signal.

“We’ll talk later, Corrin.” Xander promised, the sound of fighting carrying across the battlefield, familiar grunts and the clang of connecting swords audible from afar. “We don’t have much time left before the skies change. We have to combine our strength and clear the way to victory!” He reminded, as if defeat had never been an option in the first place.

She shook her head, still unable to believe that they were both _really_ here before she remembered her position. “...All right!” She agreed, and spun around with renewed determination to start organizing their subsequent offensive.

Corrin then divided the group into several smaller adjacent squads of four, each in square-like positions to provide immediate support and rotate attack patterns. Due to their efficiency and unity, it was only a matter of time before they neared the bottom of the canyon to where Iago hid behind his troops.

Xander wasn’t sure there was a word to articulate the assuagement that had flooded through him when Corrin’s tentative voice had finally carried across the glade, indicating she was alive and well if not short of breath. He had grimaced with each of her astonished replies, as if she could not believe they were there to support her. As if he needed more evidence that he had been a terrible older brother as of late for the sake of his duty. His stomach had churned all day long at the pressing thought that they might have been too late, that they had taken too long to join her. He had ridden across Nohr to the Bottomless Canyon at breakneck speed, desperate to ensure her safety and that of Camilla and Elise. Leo had been just as nervous beside him, his quick wit and scathing humor replaced with the silent, cold calculation that made him invaluable in a crisis.

But as soon as her safety had been established and she returned her attention to her own troops, rage overtook his composed concern. Laslow shrank back at the belligerence emanating from Xander’s poised form with an awed shake of his head, murmuring something to Odin with a shudder that sounded suspiciously like “Dear Naga, have you ever seen him look so angry?” and Peri cheered him on, shouting for bloodshed. Even Leo looked to him with curious surprise as he struck ruthlessly to make his way down to where the most despicable Nohrian in the nation lay in wait to slay his sister. The one who had thought to do so behind his back and tell her that it had been Xander’s machinations all along to convince her of his complete betrayal and disregard. Who had made Corrin fear for her life every waking moment, and slandered her to father and all who would listen for years at the fortress. Who had followed and watched him in every single offensive against her, forcing him to choose his nation over the person he loved most in the entire world, strangling the words he wished to say into terse denials of any feelings he harbored.

No longer.

When both sides approached Iago’s position they assembled in the middle of the field just beyond the obscuring thicket of trees, where he was able to see Camilla, Elise, Azura, and Corrin all in formation. Corrin broke from her position at the sight of their emerging forms to be replaced by Jakob as she ran to where he was on horseback, standing beside him.

“Shall we?” She invited. Her hair was windblown and wild, she was covered in blood, and her armor was once again littered with dents and slices. And yet she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, gracing him with the same smile that echoed her promise to him all those years ago. Even after everything he had done, she had known all along how he truly felt. She still trusted him enough to fight at his side again, no hint of doubt regarding his intentions clouding her elated eyes. “For old time’s sake?” She continued hopefully.

She could have been asking him to lay down his life, the intensity of his answer would have been the same. His fury became muted, his severe expression easing as he looked down to meet her gaze. “Always, little princess.” He murmured, heedless for a moment that they were indeed in the middle of a battle.

With precise ferocity and solemn expressions they cut down Iago in a matter of minutes, ignoring his incessant verbal jabs and clear distress as the battle progressed. They wove their attacks in perfect synchronization, one moving to strike and the other ready to defend as soon as he cast a devastating spell. It only took three solid strikes from both to render him incapacitated, and they left him where he had taken his last stand with morbid satisfaction. When all of their enemies were finally defeated, the five newly reunited siblings gathered at the outskirts of the canyon in a small circle as the rest of Corrin’s army watched on. 

“All right. It seems that’s the last of them.” Xander said as he returned from his short search across the battlefield to find any survivors or lingering foes, dismounting his horse.

“Xander! Leo! I’m so glad you’re here!” Elise squealed, jumping up and down with glee as she ran to hug each one before returning to stand by Camilla and Corrin.

“My goodness, Elise…Do you really need to bounce around like that?” Camilla shook her head without a hint of reprimand, all four of them grinning at the adorable sight. “...Though I’m happy to see our wonderful brothers as well.” She added, walking over to place a hand on each of their shoulders and grant them an overjoyed smile, one each of them hadn’t seen in over a month. “Now all four of us are together, just like the Hoshidan brothers and sisters.” Even as she took a step back to release them each sibling subconsciously took a step forward, assembling closer as if to avoid being torn apart again.

“What? You had the entire Hoshidan royal family with you...And those thugs were still giving you trouble?” Leo raised a brow as he considered the opposing royal family around them before he shrugged and let out an unimpressed sigh. “I have to admit, I find that a bit disappointing.” 

“What’d you just say? Are you mocking us!?” Hinoka was the first to retaliate. The passionate warrior princess of Hoshido sneered at the insinuation that she was incapable of protecting Corrin and serving as a military asset despite years of dedicating her life to protecting those as helpless as she once was. Clearly, Leo had struck a nerve.

His answering grin was devilish, sardonic as ever as he remained unaware of how profoundly the statement affected her. “No, of course not. I’m merely speaking my mind.”

“I can already tell that there will be trouble between me and this guy...” Takumi muttered, crossing his arms and frowning at the flaxen-haired dark mage as he too bristled at the implication. 

Xander placed a hand on Leo’s shoulder and spoke with infinite patience in an attempt to calm the quickening tempers, his voice low and soothing. “Relax, Leo. We have to stop thinking in terms of Us and Them.” He then chose to address every person present, benevolence suffusing his countenance. He never was one to incite meaningless conflict, and he knew how much it meant to Corrin that her siblings got along. Perhaps he could not yet forgive the Hoshidans for all they had done, but there was no reason to be contentious without due provocation. “We all made the choice to come here.” He nodded. After all, he was indebted to each of them for remaining by Corrin’s side and watching over her when he had not.

Leo stiffened as he realized his own mistake with his caustic comments. “...You’re right, Xander. I apologize.” He inclined his head to the Hoshidan siblings in remorse before he looked to Xander again, the only one who could understand his struggle to be civil with the people who had been their sworn enemy for nearly two decades until a few days ago. “It’s hard to get used to this, but after what happened to Father...” He mumbled. 

Corrin stepped in at that point, determined to understand what happened in Nohr with their father. She sensed it was still a raw subject. “What do you mean? Did something happen in Nohr?” She asked carefully, standing so close to Xander that their arms were brushing. She hoped the physical reassurance would make it easier for him to talk about it, resisting the urge to squeeze his fingers but unsure if the gesture would be welcome anymore. 

Everybody looked to Xander in question and he crossed his arms as he explained, internally wishing that he could just disappear from sight. “When we last saw Father, he…” Xander paused as if he struggled to say the words out loud, his voice growing hoarse with disbelief, quieting progressively with each word. “He said that Hoshido and Nohr meant nothing to him. He commanded us to destroy both kingdoms.” His rubbed a hand over his mouth in consternation. 

“That’s insane!” Corrin blurted as she took a step back, and immediately regretted her reaction as soon as she saw Xander wince.

“Corrin, in Izumo you said that you thought Father was being controlled…” Leo recounted, pacing back and forth to relieve his agitation. “I didn’t believe you then, but after seeing how Father has changed…” He shook his head as he remembered, as if he still couldn’t believe it himself. He lifted his head from his contemplation to gaze at her sympathetic expression with somber assent. “I have decided that you might have been correct all along.”

She did not falter, as positive as she had been the first time she admitted the difficult truth. “It’s true, Leo. I haven’t lied to you. Our real enemy is controlling King Garon.”

“I apologize for calling you a traitor. If I had trusted you sooner, we would be in a better situation now.” He grimaced, ashamed of himself for letting his emotional turmoil overrule his loyalty to his sister and the steadfast logic that had always served him well.

She shook her head as she eliminated the distance between them, both physical and metaphorical, with a few steps in his direction and an embrace. “You don’t need to apologize. Just having your trust now means more to me than you know.” She murmured as Leo wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off her feet before setting her down again, grinning his thanks. He was so glad to have his big sister back, even if she ruffled his hair and set his headband askew for the millionth time as he swatted her hands away. 

Xander looked on with joy to see his siblings so cheerfully reunited, but also felt compelled to clarify his position regarding recent events. “As for me, until now I have risked my life time and again in the defense of Nohr. I have no intention of turning my back on my kingdom.” His sudden sobriety jarred Corrin, making her wonder if he had only intended to assist in this battle before returning to Nohr. She wouldn’t hold it against him if he felt he could no longer trust her, especially if he was needed elsewhere. “But if Father is not himself, and is in fact a danger to our home…” He amended, looking as though his subsequent decision had been a fraction more inevitable than it had been rational. “Then it is my duty to follow you and do what is best for Nohr.” He claimed, the model of a dedicated prince as his mouth remained an unwavering line. Before she had a chance to ask him if he was certain he wished to join her army, he continued.

“Corrin…?” He entreated quietly, as if the words were meant for her alone. “I trust you. I trust that you’ll remain true to your goal for a lasting peace, little princess.” He said the exact words she needed to hear with that soft, vulnerable smile she missed more than anything. The one she hadn’t seen since the times he read to her lowly in the stillness of the night, his silvery voice keeping the nightmares and loneliness at bay. It was strange, his words seemed less like a pledge and more like a homecoming, one Corrin felt was long overdue.

“Xander...” Her voice wobbled before she launched herself into his arms, laying her chin on his armored shoulder regardless of how sullied either of them were. Xander stumbled back a step with a chuckle, the breath knocked out of him from the sheer force of her embrace before he wrapped his arms around her waist more tightly than he would have ever dared weeks ago, as if he was afraid she would disappear if he let go. They stayed that way for an indeterminate duration, re-immersing themselves in all of the little characteristics that made the other undeniably _them._

Prince Ryoma then chose to interject, looking equally serious and cavalier, and Xander bit back his irritation at having their moment interrupted as he let her go with reluctance. “Then I propose a truce between our kingdoms.”

He raised a brow at the suggestion, wondering where the sudden change of heart had come from. “What do you mean, Prince Ryoma?”

“You and I are similar, Xander, both in our goals and our motivation. If there is a way to bring peace to our kingdoms, that is the cause I will support. For the sake of our sister...For the sake of the world...Let us be allies in this.” Xander sensed that despite their differences, the prideful prince was being sincere. Corrin was too precious to both of them and they were being manipulated by an external foe, the war between Nohr and Hoshido needed to end if they had any hope of surviving the coming ordeal.

So he extended his hand. “I accept your proposal, Prince Ryoma. I hope that we can achieve a peaceful world.” He affirmed as they clasped hands.

Takumi gawked at the sight. “Ryoma and Prince Xander--working together. I never thought I’d see it.” He said with a shake of his head.

“Just make sure you don’t slow us down, Hoshidans.” Leo smirked.

Hinoka narrowed her eyes, warily sizing up the opposing prince. “You don’t seem to share your brother’s open mind...”

“I apologize for Leo--he bears you no ill will. Don’t let it worry you. We can’t have you sully your pretty face with a frown.” Camilla reassured with the knowledge that Leo’s pestering was only a testament to his competitive nature, not outright malice. Corrin had to stifle a chuckle at the mischievous raising of his brows in her direction, shaking her head in light-hearted disapproval.

“Um...I...I’ll do my best to help everyone as much as I can!” Sakura stuttered, trying to help ease the tension further.

Elise nodded in her direction, shooting her an amiable smile. Corrin had a feeling that they would become fast friends as she looked on. “Yeah! I’m going to do the same thing!”

“Isn’t this wonderful, Corrin? You’ve managed to win over your family, blood related and not!” Azura nudged her side, coaxing a grin. “Because of the choice you made, all of this became possible.” She reminded gently, looking on beside her with her own relieved smile. Corrin may not have known it, but her selfless choice had also saved Azura’s life.

Corrin couldn’t be happier. Despite how hard it had been to be the sole proponent of peace in the beginning, seeing her family cooperate now made every moment worthwhile. She would get to be with _all_ the people she loved, every step of the way from now on. “Thanks, Azura…” Corrin said, before extending her gratitude to everyone before her. “And thank you all. It means more than I can say for everyone to trust me.”

The time they had spent as enemies until they reconciled their differences now felt as though it was years ago as Xander stared at the ring in his palm, unable to believe that it had been mere weeks since he and Leo had joined the army along with her Hoshidan family. Peace reigned in Corrin’s little fort hidden within the Deep Realms, the sound of laughter, conversing, and endless training permeating the grounds as he walked the length of the dirt path. When he had first arrived he had been unsurprised by the abundant freedom and autonomy Corrin granted her troops. They were undeniably devoted to her cause and she preferred to guide by trust rather than the rigid discipline he had known as a soldier and general, creating a more optimistic environment than one might have expected from such uncertain times. He had, however, been shocked to find that many of her troops had chosen to marry during the war and have children, leaving the young ones in the relative obscurity of the surrounding Deep Realms for the sake of their safety. Otherwise, the camp ran much like the Nohrian army had when they travelled for days on end: self-sufficient and well-regulated by its inhabitants, an effort to which he contributed daily.

At first, Xander had been unaccustomed to his new abundance of time, something of which he had always had an acute shortage in his life. It was strange to wake up without an agenda; he had no war meetings to supervise, official documents to read, luncheons to attend, or armies to lead as soon as his eyes opened. Now he simply engaged in whatever was needed on that particular day, whether it was providing his expertise as a veteran regarding their next move against the Vallite army or gathering ample firewood with a fellow soldier. Strange as it was, he couldn’t deny how much he appreciated his ephemeral independence and the newfound lack of public scrutiny. He would always behave with the dignity expected of a prince of Nohr, but it was splendid to have the liberty to enjoy a day outside in the sun or spend time with his family once every so often. He even found himself befriending a number of Corrin’s comrades, the most noteworthy being Kaze, Azura, and Nyx.

The only constant that remained in his life was his training, which he engaged in late into the night as was his habit by necessity. He had no aversion to practicing with the others, but there was a certain level of concentration and productivity that could only be achieved in solitude. Furthermore, swordplay was as much a form of self-expression for him as it was a line of defense, every measure of his heart placed into a sword’s use and care, truly existing as an extension of himself. When he first began utilizing the grounds it became a haven from the daily bustle of the stronghold, leaving him to privately process his thoughts regarding their newest conflict and his decision to leave Nohr. That first night when Xander was feeling particularly vexing twinges of guilt for leaving father behind, no matter how maniacal he had seemed, a drowsy Corrin had snuck up on him, leaning against the doorframe as he struck. It was only when he heard the familiar sound of an exhausted yawn that he had turned to find her swaying on her feet, half-asleep. Tenderness engulfed his expression as he lowered his sword, reminded of the days she would fall asleep as he read to her. The way her hands lifted with clear indolence to rub at her tired eyes was no less endearing now than it was years ago, tempting him to scoop her up and carry her back to her treehouse before she fell asleep against the wall. But she was no longer the same Corrin as far as he knew.

Corrin had seemed so busy and distant when he first arrived at the fort that evening, talking to each and every one of her troops to assess their wounds and feelings regarding the day’s battle, as well as assuring those who were left behind of their value defending the stronghold. He had marveled at her ease of communication, open and amiable with everyone until she retired to her treehouse to get some rest, encouraging everyone else to do the same in preparation for tomorrow. But he hadn’t been able to sleep, unable to stop thinking about his decision and wondering if what he had once shared with Corrin would now be different in proportion to the changes she had undergone and all that had occurred between them.

But her welcome intrusions during his training sessions would prove him absolutely wrong; she was no less accepting, forgiving, and unerringly perceptive as he remembered. Touched by the depth of her concern and her heartfelt admittance of the loneliness they had shared providing her solace, he found himself looking forward to every single night for those few hours they could share alone together. When they discussed the intricacies of life, improved their skill with a blade, poked fun, and spoke without fear of judgement or misunderstanding. The more time they spent together, the more the feelings he had once buried came to the fore. And the disappearance of the previous hindrances that had kept him from pursuing a relationship with her and the relative normalcy of such engagements within her camp made him begin to wonder if he should.

For so long, he had never considered marriage an option in his life. To be wed would be to start a family of his own, and as the future king of Nohr he had never had the time to seek out and court a partner to his satisfaction. Or, if he was being honest with himself, couldn’t find the impetus to ask anyone other than Corrin to share a life with him. Nobody else had helped him or could continue to help him grow into the kind of person worthy of becoming king someday. More importantly, however, he couldn’t imagine coming home to anyone else, couldn’t think of a single other person who brought him such unconditional peace and joy, who accepted him for all that he was. Who had taught him the true meaning of strength, the boundless nature of hope, the importance of laughter, the persistence of compassion in the face of fear, and the depth to which he could love. He wanted to, if he had not already, inspire the same degree of awe and affection within her if she so wished to share it with him. 

He looked to the window, taking in the lazy descent of the sun approaching the horizon. It was nearly time to meet her. He steeled his resolve with a final memory, one that emerged unbidden as he stood and started organizing the materials on his desk to prepare for his departure. 

He thought of the day when she had disappeared, an instance that came to mind more often than he’d like to admit, especially in the days of her absence. The silence had been thoughtful that afternoon, and she had said nothing as he approached her position in the meadow. After a moment’s uncertainty he had sat down beside her, curling up his knees and leaning back to appreciate the day himself. It was a pleasant afternoon, mild temperatures with just a hint of a warm breeze, more favorable weather than Nohr was usually fortunate enough to receive. But the serenity of her little haven wasn’t enough to erase his disorientation and curiosity so much as mute it for a short time.

He sighed after a few minutes, hating that he had to ask the question and petrified even more by her potential answer, but needing to know.

“Were you trying to run away, little princess?” He had asked quietly, unsure why the thought wounded him so. Hadn’t they all been reasonably good siblings to her in the time of her stay?

She seemed pensive then, searching within herself for an honest answer before replying. Her small hands were plucking at a flower, feeling the velvet of it’s petals between her fingers as she spoke. “No, not quite. I just needed some distance, some silence, I think. I have no intention of running away.” Her voice matched his volume, low and soothing.

He felt the unprecedented knot that had formed in his stomach loosen, “I see,” was all he could manage to say at first, still swamped with relief for the second time in one day. “Is this something you’d like to do more often?” She seemed surprised by the question, turning abruptly to gaze at him as if to make sure he meant it.

“...Yes, I’d like that.” She finally said in a small voice.

“Then how about I propose an arrangement?” He waited until she looked at him, nodding her willingness to consider. “Whenever you’d like some time to yourself outside, leave a note on my office desk. On those days, I can inform everyone to leave you be and notify the guards to keep them from stopping you or thinking you ran away.” 

She stilled. “Were you worried I ran away? Is that why you came all this way to find me?” She asked, as if his subsequent answer would explain everything.

“Of course I was.” He murmured, meeting her eyes with earnest sorrow. “But I was mostly worried you were somewhere alone and scared, even worse, hurt.” He clarified, revealing most of his primary motivation. The fact that her absence from his life instilled a strange emptiness in his chest, as though he were hollow, was of little consequence in the grand scheme of her safety and happiness.

She pursed her lips and shook her head, as if the concept itself was preposterous. “Please, don’t look so sad. I will never leave you, big brother, I promise.” She pledged as she scooted closer and laid a head on his shoulder, the movement both an apology and an indulgence he contentedly allowed. They stayed that way until night fell and Corrin dozed off in his mild company under the stars, succumbing to sleep in minutes as she always did once darkness fell. He took his time lifting her up and carrying her back to the fortress, absorbed in all that he had learned and the absurd level of reassurance a young girl’s vow could grant him, and how much it undoubtedly meant to him.

What had once been a shattering reminder of all he had lost now gave him the courage to rise from the room and tuck the ring neatly away in his pocket, sparing a fleeting glance in the mirror beside the door before heading out to speak with Corrin.

He waited outside the fort where he had asked her to meet him, to a special place Lilith had helped him locate away from the prying eyes and ears of the army. Much as he appreciated the tactical advantage of ninjas in a time of war, he didn't appreciate their penchant for eavesdropping and stalking along the lengths of the hideout. Nor the nosiness and narrowed eyes of a particularly devoted butler. The small realm he had chosen was not unlike her favorite meadow near the Nohrian fortress, showcasing similar flowers and tranquility. If he could not bring her to his preferred place to propose, he wanted to emulate his intent as closely as possible. When the familiar sound of a portal opening across from him sounded, he stood at attention, watching as Corrin emerged looking perplexed. When she spotted him, she turned and walked towards him until she was but two feet away.

“Hello, Corrin. Thank you for joining me here today.” He smiled gratefully, unable to help his formality. He was nervous beyond measure.

“Sure thing. Your note said it was urgent... Is everything okay?” She watched his unease with concern, waiting for him to continue. Had she said something wrong in their time together? She hoped she hadn’t made him uncomfortable...

He paused, unsure how to approach the topic. He decided to gauge her position first, to make sure that his request was not entirely unwelcome. “...I need to ask you something. What do you think of me?” 

Confusion made her hesitate, her head tilting to one side as she tried to understand his sudden request. “I'm not sure what you mean…”

He took a deep, steadying breath before he implored her again. “I know this is out of the blue, but I need to know. Please answer truthfully.”

“Okay…” She took in his inscrutable expression for a moment as he waited before deciding to humor him. She couldn’t see how her careful honesty would change anything. “If it means that much to you. Well,” She paused as she considered, trying to find the right words to describe him. “to me you're someone I admire. Someone strong and wise and noble. You're the rock of the family, someone we can all depend on and look up to. You taught me about courage and about the sword, as well as about right and wrong.” She nodded absently to herself as her gaze fell from his patient expression to the unruly grass beneath them. “I was so sad when I first found out we aren't truly brother and sister... I was always so proud to be the little sister of the finest prince there ever was.” She smiled ruefully, remembering her dejection as a young girl, eager to be close to him even then.

“Thank you, Corrin. I am honored by your kind words.” She couldn’t fathom why he appeared so profoundly mollified, some of the earlier tension in his body dissipating. “Though, to be honest, I feel the exact opposite in one respect.” He began, his usual sobriety returning.

Her brows came together, bewilderment commandeering her face once more. “Oh?”

“I am overjoyed that we are not brother and sister.”

She winced at the absolute finality of his explanation, the intensity of his conviction. “Y-you are? But why?! I guess I wasn't a very good sister…” She muttered as she remembered her previous offenses that year and her shenanigans in the fortress, though she _had_ had the best of intentions...

He noticed her becoming swept away in her own interpretation of his statement as her expression furrowed further, so he endeavored to clarify as soon as possible. “Please don't misunderstand me.” He soothed, moving forward to envelop one of her small hands in both of his. “I meant that in the best way possible.” 

She was still addled. “What way is that?” She asked slowly, unable to think of what he was getting at.

“You said just now that I taught you about courage and about the sword.” With a nod of his head he indicated that he agreed with her assessment, to some degree. “But…” He hesitated before that familiar look of determination mingled with the tenderness that softened his voice. “I wish to teach you about much more than that. I wish to teach you about love, as you have done for me.” He admitted. “That's why I bought this for you.” He murmured as he lowered himself to one knee and retrieved a tiny, lavender velvet box from his breast pocket and opened it before her.

All she managed in response was a strangled gasp, unable to believe what she was seeing. “Is that a r-ring?!” She inquired breathlessly, wonderstruck. It was gorgeous, with a luminous silver band and interwoven lengths of clear and black diamonds converging around a sweet amethyst heart at the center. It was perfect in every sense of the word.

He was solemn as ever as he squeezed her hand beneath his, to regain her attention or help him maintain the courage to continue, even he couldn’t be certain. Regardless, every iota of his attention was on her as he said the words that had dwelled in his heart for so long. All he could hope now was that she returned his feelings. “Dearest, Corrin. You are the most precious person in the world to me. Would you do me the honor of being my wife?” She noticed, with no shortage of charmed delight, that a bashful blush had overtaken his neck and dusted his cheekbones as soon as he asked, betraying his anxiety.

Somehow verbalizing the question that accompanied a ring and a man down on one knee made the moment much more real, losing it’s dream-like quality as she blinked at him. “Your wife?!” Reality came crashing in, brutal and disheartening. How would their siblings feel about this? What would the army say? She stifled the urge to tackle him, shouting her agreement as a flush of her own heated her cheeks. “Xander, are you sure? What will the others say…”

He understood her hesitance, but he doubted their siblings’ protests would be all that great as this move would only serve to unify them further rather than divide them. Furthermore, his primary concern was her happiness, compromises were always possible for those displeased with whatever today’s outcome would be. “Let them say what they will. I wish to protect you for the rest of my days.” He vowed. “I don't see you as a sibling any longer, but as a woman... One who I adore.” He was all intensity as he continued to reassure her, undeterred in the slightest despite his ears turning an embarrassing shade of pink. His feelings were honest and boundless, and so long as she felt the same way little else mattered to him. “Please say you'll stay by my side, now and forever.”

“Xander…” She started to say, wanting to explain all that she had felt and locked away in her heart much as he had. But seeing the vulnerability flash in his warm, mahogany eyes indicated they had all the time in the world for explanations later. An entire lifetime as of now, in fact. “Of course I'll marry you, I love you.” A watery laugh followed as joyful tears gathered in her eyes. “I'm so happy. I don't know what to say! But everyone will be so surprised. They may even object at first…” She cringed internally at the thought of the army’s impending reaction.

Xander rose from his position and slid the ring onto her hand with careful precision, tucking away the box as she sniffed and admired it. His hands rose to brush away the streaks that lined her face with gentle strokes of his thumbs, and when she met his eyes as her vision cleared she was shocked to find how different he appeared. The pinched, tense element that had become the norm faded, a contented smile relieving his expression to reveal the slightest dimples winking at her from afar. All of a sudden it felt as though she was observing the Xander she had first met over ten years ago, one that did not have a war on his shoulders and a kingdom to salvage. A Xander that was elated, untouched by guilt or duty or impotence. “Worry not. In the end, I'm certain everyone will understand. After all, our marriage won't only benefit our future happiness... I believe it will also have a positive effect on our beloved kingdom as well.” There was no measure of uncertainty in his expression, cradling her face in his hands as if her bones were made of the thin windblown glass that adorned Nohrian chandeliers in the fortress and castle.

“You're right, as ever.” She agreed. “Besides, what matters most is that we'll finally be together.” She leaned into his touch, one hand moving up to cover one of his.

“I can't wait to spend my life with you, little princess. I have so much to tell you…” He shook his head once as if he didn’t know where to begin. “You were cooped up for so long, I wish to show you the whole world.”

“I can't wait. Thank you, dear Xander.”

Adoration suffused her voice as she looked up at his intent expression, revelling in the depth of his understanding and unmasked affections as his uncovered hand moved down to stroke the length of her jaw, fingers trembling as the intensity of his ardor strengthened anew. In that moment he relived every sensation that had accompanied falling in love with her, in which the potency of every emotion he had subdued could be realized: sorrow, longing, love, anguish, rapture, loneliness.

As the magnitude of the moment burgeoned with every delayed second of inaction, the rough pad of his callused thumb eventually ascended to trace the length of her bottom lip, a silent question in his eyes. Awed and overwhelmed by the sheer force of his fervor, she nodded and repressed a shiver at her own hypersensitivity to his careful stroking. Heat blossomed in her chest as he leaned down with gradual movements, remaining cautious to ensure that she could stop him at any time if she no longer felt comfortable. His breath skated across her face, tempting her millimeters away until she closed the distance by raising herself on her toes, her hand leaving his and joining the other to cling to his broad shoulders. Their lips brushed, the contact hesitant and clumsy as their noses bumped against each other before they parted briefly and tried again, tilting their heads to the side this time.

Bliss could be the only word to describe the way their lips molded against each other, to describe the engulfing nature of his embrace and quiet vigor as one of his arms fell to her waist, a warm hand pressed into the small of her back to hold her even closer. As their preliminary shyness ebbed, raw heat and feeling infused the collision, her hands moving up to curl in the unruly strands held in place beneath his circlet. Consumed in the liplock and by the unexpected rightness of their union it took them a long moment to remember to breathe, remembering to release each other with reluctance.

His breathing was ragged as their lips parted and his forehead met hers, the cool metal of his circlet pressing gently into her skin as he held her close. “I love you, truly. I've been meaning to tell you for so long…You are my precious wife now. It is my honor and duty to keep you safe, at all costs.”


End file.
